


Frayed Knots

by FountainPenguin



Category: Fairly OddParents
Genre: Animal Behavior, Anti-Pixies, Assorted OC relatives of canon characters, Backstory, Bat biology, Bipolar protagonist, British spellings everywhere, Character Development, Childhood betrothals, Coming-of-age ceremonies, Convoluted magic systems, Culture Differences, Cupid's crazy family, Difficult romantic break-ups, Fairy zodiac, Fantastic Racism, Genderbent gold and white bird people, Genie conservation program, Glossed-over sociosexual culture, Government overthrow plot, Harem-keeping will o' the wisps, Imprisonment, Insect biology, Intergenerational Friendships, Loopholes, Magical CPR, Magical Culture, Magical beings drunk on candy and soda, Magical color-eye STDs, Magical pheromones, Magical religions, Manipulative tactics, Microaggressions, Multi, One instance of half-drunk dubious consent but it's AC/AW so it's more okay than it could have been, Panromantic demisexual protagonist, Raising magical children, Reincarnation plot, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn Romance, Snarky pixies, So many genies, Tea Parties, Toxic Friendships, War from "Balance of Flour" episode, Worldbuilding, abusive childhood, anti-hero protagonist, difficult family relationships, magical politics, magical therapy, mention of Original character deaths, nature spirits, non-consensual kisses, references to Celtic mythology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 320,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FountainPenguin/pseuds/FountainPenguin
Summary: First-person Anti-Cosmo POV; Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda backstory 'fic.Ever since he was eight years old, Anti-Cosmo has dreamed of becoming a father in a time period when Anti-Fairies are forbidden from reproducing. Forming a conservation program for genies has helped, but not enough. Never enough. Determined to find a loophole in the cruel law, Anti-Cosmo searches desperately for a way that Anti-Fairies might reproduce without being forcibly bound to the whims of their Fairy counterparts. And when he gets his hands on the information he desires at last, he's forced to make a painful choice: Pretend he never uncovered the forbidden secret that he did, or put his long-sought knowledge to use at the expense of those he loves.





	1. ACT 1 - String Theory

**Author's Note:**

> This story runs parallel to my H.P. backstory fanfic, "Origin of the Pixies." You don't have to read "Origin" in order to understand "Knots" (though it may supplement the worldbuilding). I'll note in the headings or in notes at the bottom when a chapter crosses over with "Origin."

_In which the Year of the Black Lake occurs, and Julius is beside himself_

* * *

It began with smoke. First it was black, then it was green, and I was not yet alive.

The world existed in minuscule form; I elaborate for poetic effect. I mattered but nothing, Cosmo mattered everything and more, and such is what I knew. It was black, and then it was green.

You don't know, you know. Thinking is so very difficult before you've been gifted your brain. You view your actions as meaningless in the rush of the moment, when in reality they will determine everything. Oh smoke, if you only knew… You are smoke, of course.

If my experience is typical of an anti-fairy, then when you wake, you find your first personality trait at random, and the second by luck. You're still feeling for the third, unable to see, when you realise you're running out of time. Gods, that boob Cosmo's head was spacious from the start… It took a painful ten seconds to even find his first aspect, and ten more to pry it from the wrinkles of his brain. "Patience". Not my first choice, desperate as I was; I threw it off in disgust. Something promising. Something worth it. Just something. There had to be something I could make my own.

I selected "Tact". Cosmo's once, but entirely mine now. It's the soft cold that attracts you sideways as you wander. Approaching, you recognise the rightness of it breathing against your soul. Your job is to search, to sort, to steal.

You do. A few aspects of your host counterpart's baby personality are favourable. Many repulse you. Still others you pick up, almost bite, but think twice about and return where they were.

These life-shaping decisions take but a matter of wingbeats. You're a soul within a soul, hovering in a mind that is not your own. Then you tumble out, and become smoke once again.

Cosmo's ear became my passage home. I lacked a mouth with which to echolocate. His father, his mother; I considered their existence as I sped past. Unimportant. There existed Cosmo. There existed me. I mattered everything. And for a time, he meant nothing at all.

You fly home at incredible speed, or at least I did. Tried to, anyway. Straight through Choketroll Pass. The name is appropriate: the ever-swirling mists lend themselves to lore and fantasy, and it's been suggested the bridge's guardians (long dead now) still linger about the shadows in Daoine form to pick pockets, chill throats, and taunt the superstitious fellow's mind. Rot and rubbish, all of it; if life existed after death, then someone up there would have told us so.

I digress.

As you are not but smoke, you may pass across the Hy-Brasilian / Tír Ildáthachi border unharmed and un-sought for. A sleepy guard raises her head but a little. You are something of a common thread. Another insignificance. She does not know, then, that although demand for pups may rise in the coming years, supply will fall increasingly low. She does not know it will be so many millennia before one of your kind passes this way again.

Shining lavender grass and rolling pink clouds run themselves out to stubbled roots and ashy cinders. The sky falls from purple to pink, and from pink to red. You pay it no mind, for again, you don't yet have a brain. You cannot comprehend with thought. Only absorb. If you could consider, perhaps you might. Yes, perhaps you might say to yourself, "Why, this land of skeletal forests and rotting bones is no place to raise a child, and I shall file a complaint to our esteemed High Count and Countess as soon as I have got a mouth!"

But of course, you would then flit along your way, for an Anti-Fairy, well… He is a creature born and bred with innate independence, never meant to be moulded by his environment. Circumstances are irrelevant. Instinct is everything. You may realise as much, even as smoke; after all, as early as this point you've begun to formulate yourself into what your hosting counterpart is not.

As you go about your merry way over valleys checkered with shadows and shrubs, at some point it may occur to you that you are not alone. Other smoky shapes race alongside you. That's hardly a surprise, considering their parents would have joined the, er, migration three months ago… one shafted me hard in the shoulder as we flew. I careened left, then rammed her (him? it?) in return. Eight of us, at least; possibly ten. Twenty? That's what happens, of course, when all Anti-Fairy births are delayed through embryonic diapause until Friday the 13th.

I arrowed onward, colours and sounds zinging around me. This smoky form made up only half of who I could be. This may be my soul, my identity, but somewhere out there lay a blue body with my name imprinted upon his core. Tiny, square, and not quite born.

Oh, if I could but find him! How joyful the two of us, melding into one form of body and soul, would be then!

Fields melted into a clawing forest. Bare branches scraped the bloodied sky. Alongside two dozen other smoky puffs, I weaved among the clinging black leaves. Minutes streaked by as though they were seconds. Black land, red clouds, blue faces tilted upward to shout and wave and celebrate our coming home. Away from the town then, the onlookers, the bubbling green lakes and crimson lava pools. Several patches of lifesmoke veered from the main cloud, targeting tiny bodies tucked away somewhere only they knew.  _Not yet_ , I told myself. My time would come.

Twigs erupted into the sky a short ways ahead of me. Dark feathers swelled, birthing an enormous creature with snapping hands. Nearly half my company dove and scattered. An oblivious few charged on.

I, embarrassing as it is, must count myself among those who flinched foolishly back. A crawdad in a stream.

" _Got you!"_

Long fingers closed around the part of me that served as my waist, crushing my chest. I squealed, for although I was smoke, I had form. By the time I realised I had been grabbed, it was too late. The hand flicked me sideways, into a glass jar. A lid smashed down after me.

There was no pain, no fear; hardly any confusion. I hit the bottom of the jar, then bounced off one side when it flipped up on its end. "See" would be an inaccurate verb, but I did become aware of other blue creatures with black feathers flying about, catching other blobs of purple lifesmoke in other jars. Plucking us out of the air like bruised apples from a hovering tree.

Some of us made off with our lives, I suppose. If I'd had lips, I would have pursed them. As lifesmoke, I had but one goal: To find my body, and fill it with life. Inside the jar, I could no longer progress. And if anything, I found it quite the puzzling predicament.

But, I could do little to improve my circumstances. Nothing at all, in fact. Encased in glass without the smallest crack, I could not phase myself through the jar. And so, I mused in silence as my captor carted me off. The passiveness, inevitable as it was, is something I have always regretted nonetheless.

Only later would I learn my captors' kind: anti-cherubs. Six of them, their fur so blue it nearly looked black. They skimmed beneath the trees, jars jostling in their arms. Deeper, deeper in the woods, as rats and insects scattered in the rotting scarlet leaves. We flew over a frozen river. We passed a canyon dotted with tunnel mouths. Then the trees turned to conifers, blooming with grey and orange. And when the anti-cherubs laughed, even wandering imps and kobolds chose to duck and cover.

The anti-cherubs slowed only when the conifer forest gave way to hills. Bright, green and pink hills blooming with juicy clover. A tilted tower rose in their midst. I pressed myself against the wall of my jar. The architectural style was recent, judging by the wide arched windows. The walls shone with alabaster and pearl. I searched them for flaws with all my limited ability as we swept through the door. There weren't any- not really. Every curve was smooth, every block unchipped. A smart contrast with the yellow curls of plants that snaked across the floor. Vines crawled up the walls and bled from ceiling corners. Decked-out trellises flaunted olives, bluebells, roses, and a rainbow of offerings for the spirits of the summer season. Kudzu sprouted through the dirt floor in every hall. Poison ivy waterfalled down the stairs. Not that I knew what any of it was called at the time.

In the first-floor parlour, the six anti-cherubs clinked our jars down on a low table that already held a couple dozen. So many lifesmoke clouds, so many souls. We "glanced" at one another, swirling about to indicate our mounting distress. Where were our bodies? Our journey hadn't brought  _me_ , at least, any nearer to mine.

I bunched together at the base of my jar. Across the way, green fire flickered in a crevice against the wall. Below me gaped a chasm. Its edge lay mere centimetres away. Could I? Should I? Would I even dare?

Being little more than a bundle of instincts, I acted upon the impulse to throw myself to the floor. Whether I understood the cause and effect of my fall shattering the glass, or whether I was simply desperate, is up to some debate. I would like to argue the former. Either way, I made it to the ground… only to land in a soft nest of leaves and grasses and bounce, unbroken, across the soil.

I met the seventh anti-cherub for the first time then (though, looking back on it, it might be more accurate to refer to her as the first). She cocked her bare foot against my jar, halting my scramble to freedom. Claws tightened along glass. Instead of bending down to pick me up, she pushed me against the table leg, then flipped me into the air and caught me two wingbeats before I could smash into the fireplace. I hunkered, drinking in the snap and scorch of spicy green flames below.

Then she tossed me back onto the table, not even caring that I bowled four or five other jars over in the process. The world ripped back and forth. When it stopped spinning and I could bring myself to "look" up, she was there again. Scarlet-eyed and grinning with needle-point fangs. Powdery blue fur sprouted on her face; glimmering black hair swung in a braid down her back. She folded both arms behind her neck and shared her sickly smirk with the potted plants dangling, guillotine-like, from snaggled ceiling hooks.

"Anti-Ludell," she called into the next room, "Anti-Charite's company finally decided to show up with another batch of freshies. And woo-wee, are they ever ugly!"

Uncomprehending, we continued to swirl about as before.

A second pale blue anti-cherub, this one a sullen male, joined her at the table with his arms folded. "Did you bury the identifier arrows in your moonhouse again? I can't find them anywhere in this dump."

"Would I do a thing like that?" she sing-songed, and then yanked on his bangs until most of them tore out. With a click of her tongue, she tossed the hairs aside. "They're in the back of the silverware drawer. Don't prick a talon, luv."

Anti-Ludell gagged. "I thought those were beaststicks! I hosted a dinner party and served those to my guests!"

She burst into snickers; he scolded, "Anti-Venus," and stalked away.

The other anti-cherubs had gone- probably, to seek more innocent victims flitting above the trees. Anti-Venus leaned forward on her elbows, tapping on one glass jar after another, until her brother returned from the kitchen with a fistful of white arrows in his claws.

"Yeah, that's not enough for everyone," she told him.

"Thanks to you, the rest are soaking in the sink with bits of rice still stuck to their tips. Let's just do the first six, and then we can sterilize 'em and repeat." He thrust them her way. "You identify this time. I'll label."

"Nah." Anti-Venus linked her fingers behind her neck again. "I've identified before and it's basically literally the worst thing I've ever done. I'm just gonna label again and make you do the hard stuff."

Shaking his head, Anti-Ludell began righting the fallen jars. "Okay, your counterpart might have been born first, but between the three of us, my lifesmoke found my body  _way_  before yours did. I mean, look!" Turning, he snagged her forearm and held his own against it. "I indisputably have the lighter fur. So technically, I'm older. And you should listen to me."

"Nah."

I missed most of what happened next due to my angle, youth, and lack of care. I suppose Anti-Ludell lunged for his sister, resulting in a scuffle between them. We rattled along the table in our jars. Anti-Venus grabbed him beneath the armpits and launched herself into the air with a great sweep of feathered wings. Then she backflipped and slung him over her head. Anti-Ludell twisted as he fell and catapulted off the white wall. When he dove her way again, he aimed the arrows at her face.

… Something of the sort.

Anti-Venus won the skirmish in the end, I'm quite certain. Though, I thought little at all of the situation until Anti-Ludell rammed the point of one arrow through the lid of my jar. I flattened myself to the bottom, unable to avoid being nipped in the side by its point. The fire fizzled and flared not far away.

"His name is Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly," Anti-Ludell reported after a moment had passed. "Fertilised at precisely 6:54 on a Sunday evening this last winter by the sperm of Anti-Florensa Anti-Lunifly and egg of Anti-Robin Anti-Cosma."

He withdrew the white arrow. I shot for the hole left behind in the lid, only to smack against his palm. Swelling, I recoiled and bucked again. Anti-Ludell slapped his other hand on top of the first. "Anti-Venus," he spat, "don't just watch me fight this thing. Go fetch a stopper!"

"You want me to go or you want me to stop?" But her tone came off as absentminded, and she floated into the kitchen. I wrestled with Anti-Ludell's finger for an opening, but his skin held firm even as Anti-Venus returned in a flourish of braids and silk clothing. She shoved the plug in my lid.

I twitched.

"Smoke, I think it bit me," Anti-Ludell griped as he drew another arrow.

"That sounds like a 'you' problem." Anti-Venus brought my jar near her face like she wanted to inspect her catch. She didn't. She didn't even glance at me before smacking a crooked label across my prison. I went onto a high shelf. Every successive jar shoved me further back.

So I lived in a corner, smoky and silent, and that was where I stayed. I struggled, even lacking a brain, to make sense of my situation every passing day. As lifesmoke, the single purpose of my existence was to unite with the body that had been laid out for me. It was the simplest task in the universe, as it required no effort, no thought- only instinct.

And yet I'd failed even that. Such a thing was simply Not Done. What body would even want a failure for a soul? Oh, the shame of it! There came some days I felt certain I'd be better off never escaping my jar at all.

… But of course, the thought bordered on sacrilege, and I'd always look about in fear the other lifesmokes would surge against me and strangle me out of existence for daring to entertain such a traitorous muse.

…

…

…

"Dame A-Anti-Venus."

I did not recognise the voice. But it did bring me a strange pause. Like so many others, indistinguishable, I pressed to the side of my jar and craned myself. I'd been tucked near the back of my shelf for ever so long, never dusted, never shifted… but when I moved just right, I could "see" over the heads of other smoky figures, and to the boy who stood in the archway to the parlour.

All at once, we became very excited. A body! The boy beneath the arch held a rumpled blue body against his shoulder. It was a boxy thing, with sharp edges and sharper corners. Limp and obviously unalive. It didn't even have most of its fur yet- only the underlying layer of scales that rendered the creature ectothermic. The boy had dressed it in white mourning clothes. Not precisely reassuring.

_Is that what we'll look like? Oh, Anti-Venus was right. How we're ugly!_

The boy stared directly at the back of Anti-Venus's chair, which faced the fireplace (and, in a sense, me). Though every shelf along the wall bristled with curious spirits, he remained undistracted. His long nose twitched. Twice. Bucked front teeth fastened in his lower lip. Green eyes fixated on Anti-Venus's hand, which must have been the only part of her he could see considering that it rested on the plush arm of her seat over her wand. Not clutching the wand- simply…  _resting_  on the wand. Anti-Charite held his elbow, and the boy made no attempt to struggle against her grip.

"Dame Anti-V-V-Venus," he said again, drawing in his wings. Unlike the anti-cherubs, his wings were stretchy, leathery… not feathered. He looked sideways at Anti-Charite before drawing in a bit of air. "M-my name is Aug-g-gustus. I'm 38,599 years o-old, I have an e-education, and I want to… I w-want… I hoped you and I could make a d-deal f-for my little brother's soul."

I fought to peer past the other jars and observe Anti-Venus's movements. Her eyes wandered up the wall. Automatically, I cringed away. Without turning around, she pushed her toes through her dirt floor and said, "Here's to hoping. I've turned away Antis with higher education and fatter wallets than you, kiddo."

This was true. We had witnessed screaming mothers over the weeks, desperate fathers pleading. I think… even as lifesmoke, I held curiosity for this Augustus boy who practically glowed with the belief that he could flip her mind. What, pray tell, did he plan to offer her in exchange? His black clothes were nice, although rumpled. He had dirty fur. His ears were enormous, and both drooped near his shoulders, weighed down by golden rings.

"I'm the good girl here," continued Anti-Venus, crossing a leg over her knee. "I pretty much think I'm doing all us Hy-Brasilians a service, and quite frankly, I don't see why I should change my mind about it."

"What do you want, d-dame? Money? I brought s-some lagelyn."

"Oh, I've got money. I've got a beautiful tower, my fields, more garden space than I can manage in a hundred years on my own, and a canal with which to water it all. This close to the border with Fairy World, it thaws naturally in the summer. Imagine!" She took a fistful of dirt from the ground and let it sift between her fingers. "I may not have coloured eyes, and I may have started quite literally from the ground up, but I'm doing pretty okay for myself. And if someone gave you the directions to my place of business, I'll bet you've figured that out by now." The dirt depleted, she reached down and plucked a thorny red vine sprouting between her feet. "You go to school, Augustus?"

Augustus set his jaw as best he could. It slanted. One of his lower fangs stuck out over his upper lip. "My m-m-mother is Anti-Bryndin's th-third wife. The Blue Castle i-is my permanent res-s-sidence. I receive direct t-teaching from the camarilla court on a d-daily basis."

Anti-Venus winced, but still didn't get out of her chair. She tossed the thorny vine into the fireplace. It dissipated in a guzzling of green sparks- even I saw them shower the floor. Ash floated towards the ceiling, and after a beat, Anti-Venus flicked her wand at the poker and ash broom lying in the dirt and set them, magically, to work. "First rule of bartering, skip: Don't lead with a proclamation of your wealth."

"Um. I d-didn't, dame. I said 'third wife'. I have ninth p-pick of everything. I don't really have as much lagelyn as you seem to th-think I do…"

"Second rule of bartering: Don't imply you have nothing to offer."

"I didn't. Dame."

"Does being homeschooled upset you?" Anti-Venus asked, batting away a yawn.

"No, dame." Augustus shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His ears flopped, the dangling hoops swinging and sparkling. He tightened his grip on the square body in his arms. "I-it's the way of things now. I'm sure the c-camarilla has taught me the same stuff S-Spellementary School would've. Um. Because, the F-Fairies don't let Anti-Fairies go to their school anymore, a-and that wouldn't be fair, if we weren't being taught the same things. So it d-doesn't upset me."

Anti-Charite stifled a snort in one wing. Anti-Venus nodded, fingering the star on the tip of her wand. "Get it, got it, good. Rock solid. But if you're so confident, tell me what your camarilla says about me."

"You don't make d-d-deals with Anti-Fairies," Augustus stated. Rather firmly despite the stutter, eyes flashing emerald- I wanted to cheer his name. The pale light of the fire licked along his face. I studied his fur, but couldn't pick out the shade it was in the dark.

"No, I do not. I live this close to the Barrier for a reason: I only work with the Seelie Court." Anti-Venus considered for a few seconds, then sat up on her knees and peered over the back of her chair for the first time. "Hey. Are you Seelie?"

"I'm an Anti-Fairy," he deadpanned. "Unseelie C-Court."

"Then why can't I  _unsee_  you and this conversation? Run along, pupper."

Anti-Charite tugged him towards the archway in a manner that suggested she felt obliged to obey her sister's command, but she was no less curious than I to see if he would force the conversation on from here.

"I brought you s-something I think you're going to want to s-see," Augustus said. Anti-Venus cocked her ears forward.

"Really? Huh. I do like seeing things. Give it to Anti-Charite."

Still cradling the unmoving body with his other arm, Augustus dug around in the pockets of his coat. He came up with a bound scroll, and twisted around so Anti-Charite could take it from him without releasing his elbow.

"That's from the High S-South Region archives," he explained as she tapped it against the wall to check for loose fairy dust. When she was satisfied that it hadn't been enchanted with any hexes, she brought it to Anti-Venus, pulling Augustus after her. "Well, i-it's a copy I wrote while I w-was in the archives. I had the N-Navy Robe sign it for me to confirm i-it's legit."

Anti-Venus snapped the ribbon between her fangs and opened the scroll with a flap. "What's so important?" she asked as she did.

Augustus cleared his throat. "That s-s-scroll, I think, should be all the proof you need to see that my c-counterpart's family lives in p-p-poor circumstances. I, um, I know about you, like I s-said. They talk about you on the c-camarilla, dame."

"I do cause a lot of problems for the bigwigs in the hot seats."

"Yeah, and I think it's n-noble."

She looked up, and I longed for a glimpse of her facial expression. "What?"

The fire snapped. Augustus scuffled back as a handful of embers rolled into the dirt and smouldered. Anti-Venus stretched out and poked his cheek with the end of her wand to direct his attention back to her. He squinted, wings shivering, but won the internal fight to maintain eye contact when he spoke again. "Th-they didn't want to tell me why you don't make deals with Anti-Fairies, but I f-f-figured it out myself. I read some books, I talked to people, and I th-thought about it a lot."

"About me capturing and ransoming off newborn Anti-Fairy souls to the Seelie Court for insane prices because without a counterpart by next Friday the 13th, their children will up and croak and I think it's hilarious to remind the Fairies that although they've locked us in this wasteland they dare to call livable, we control more of their lives than they would like to remember?"

"Yep."

"You're smarter than you sound," she said with a smirk. "How'd you figure me out?"

Augustus grinned. "I actually d-didn't. But you j-just told me."

Her smile snapped away.  _Good show, Augustus!_ If my smoky form had had a tail, I would have wagged it. Anti-Venus flopped over the arm of her chair, kicking her legs until her head almost brushed the ground. Her braid swirled up dust flakes and stray cinders that had blown from the fire. Augustus glanced at Anti-Charite, then took a careful step closer to Anti-Venus.

"I know you want t-to make the Fairies uncomfortable, dame. But s-since my counterpart's family can't pay the r-ransom, well, I was hoping that you might, um, consider s-selling my brother's soul to me directly i-instead. I mean, even if they  _did_  pay the f-fee, I'd still be getting the lifesmoke anyway… and I'm sure I can p-pay you more th-than their family can. They probably don't even know their s-son doesn't have a counterpart yet."

"Oh, they know." Anti-Venus continued to hang upside-down from her chair, gazing into Augustus's eyes. "Your brother's host will have been two weeks past Friday the 13th without a counterpart now. He'll be absolutely reeling with sickness."

That made Augustus stick the knuckles of his free hand to his hip. "Well, th-they're not coming. They don't have n-nearly enough lagelyn to meet your d-demands, and they don't know who or w-where you are. So you can either sell to me, dame, or next F-Friday the 13th comes, and my brother e-evaporates because he's not in his b-body. Just like all the rest. And then you won't make a single c-click."

"You said High Count Anti-Bryndin's your step-dad?" Anti-Venus asked, not moving from the floor.

"Yes, dame."

"Plotty McPlot Twist, bucko. Mmm. So, what can you offer me? For your sake and my conscience, we should  _prrrobably_  leave the iris virus out of this."

Augustus touched the fur beneath his eye. "Oh, uh, that seems p-p-p-prudent."

"Well, make it rain. I'm listening- for now. Don't bore me, saltlick." Anti-Venus flipped to her feet again. After nodding for Anti-Charite to tighten her grip on Augustus's arm, she unfurled her wings. At least four of her black feathers fell to the floor when she did. Others curled up or down or sideways in crooked bunches. Anti-Venus smoothed down a patch that (comparatively speaking) had already been pretty smooth before she kicked into the air.

"Um…" Augustus's wide green eyes followed her from shelf to shelf as she flitted about the parlour. He switched the body of the anti-fairy pup to his other shoulder. "W-well, I worked it out, and I was thinking that if we started at a base amount of six hundred lagelyn, with a 15% interest rate for the first two hundred months-"

"That sounds like math," she scoffed. "I don't like math."

His claws moved from his eye to his ear. "I'm not really a-allowed to, but I can give you my  _canetis_  rings, d-dame. You could use them on your k-kids, or they'd look pretty if you wore them on your f-fingers. But they're not real gold."

Anti-Venus clucked her tongue. "Should've pretended they were. I would've believed you. Probably. Or not. You're a little old to have pre- _can_  plugs weighing down your listen-holes, aren't you?"

"Um. W-well." Augustus dropped his gaze to a sapling near his foot as she picked her way through a lower shelf. "I s-still have to wear them b-because of my- my- because of m-my- Anti-Bryndin wants-"

"Ahh… Daddy child-safety-locked you because the stutter interferes with your echolocating, eh? Rude. I like it."

"A-Anti-Bryndin doesn't like it when we leave the Blue Castle without an e-escort…"

"He's alone," Anti-Charite confirmed before anyone could ask. "I did a perimetre check myself, and Anti-Ludell's still out there with a patrol."

Anti-Venus rose a shelf higher.  _My shelf_  kind of higher. First, her claws appeared over the edge. She drummed the wood. Her fingers strayed in my direction-

-but veered away towards another jar. I bristled.

Careful pause.

Her eyes appeared, red and narrow. Glass clinked as she slid her hands back and forth. I stiffened with a nonexistent prayer when, ever so slowly, Anti-Venus eased me out from the shelf's corner. The other jars of smoke swirled in tight balls of sour envy.

Oh gods. Oh gods. She picked  _me._ I pulled to the far edge of my jar to hunker beneath my fluttery unease. Was I expected to communicate? I had limited ability to do so, and what if I made the wrong gesture? Would Anti-Venus put me back? How long would I be left to wait, then, for a new body to show up on my doorstep, plumb for the taking? How many more weeks did I have before next Friday the 13th struck, and my time in the mortal world ran out like sand in a glass?

"So," Anti-Venus called down, "you're out here against the High Count's orders, then."

Augustus coughed. "Well, yeah. My m-mother didn't actually want the pup. Said she d-didn't care if he died. And my papa's s-so busy working in the kitchens and c-cleaning floors all the time… s-so I'll just raise him by mys-s-self."

My exhilaration popped. I unfolded myself and stared at the stuttering boy, as much as I could stare in wispy form. It was the longest I'd "stared" at anyone before. He hugged the limp blue body -  _my_ limp blue body, with its sharp corners and white mourning clothes - to his chest and wouldn't meet my nonexistent eyes.

"Yowza! Plumes and ashes, I like you, kiddo." Anti-Venus plonked my jar down on the table between an assortment of dirty gardening tools and empty clay pots, and left one claw on the lid. "Is this him? Take a goose and a gander for me there."

My crooked label had peeled and curled from the moment it'd been slapped on. Augustus smoothed it out with thoughtful care, studying the words Anti-Venus had scribbled across it all those days ago. "Anti-Lunifly. Th-this is him."

It was me.

"You're not making a grab for it," she noted.

"We didn't agree on a p-price."

"For smoke's sake, pup, don't get all noble on me. I was just warming up to you."

Augustus checked me over again, ignoring my indignant puffing about the "Mother didn't want him" comment. His wings ruffled. "How d-do I know it's really the r-right one, dame?"

"You don't trust me?"

"Not really…"

"I deserved that. Smart drake." Anti-Venus rapped her talon against my lid. Echoes rebounded off every surface. I swirled. "The smoke won't take to the wrong body. And, unlike some people, you actually had the brains to  _bring_  the body. So, I'd get busted pretty darn quick if I steered you wrong."

"Do I have to do anything s-special to it?"

"Just pop the lid. The smoke knows what to do."

Augustus glanced up at Anti-Charite. Then he looked down again. He picked at one of my body's drooping ears. When he noticed how I rotated in his direction, he stopped and smoothed his fingers. "You don't want my m-money. And y-you don't want my  _canetis_ rings. Can I do s-something else for you? J-just name your price, dame."

Anti-Venus cackled in a soft way, sticking one hand to her waist. "You're really determined not to take advantage of me, aren't you? You terrible little barterer, you."

"Um. Mama s-says I went goody-goody because I didn't hang upside-d-down enough after I shed my e-exoskeleton." Cautiously, Augustus lowered my body. He set it right beside my jar, and I got a solid look at… me… for the first time.

I was blue. Very blue, very square, and very small. That wasn't any surprise. Dark tufts of upturned fur sprouted between the scales of my exoskeleton, with the darkest of all curling from the back of my head. Black wings lay like crumpled paper fans against my spine. I had tiny white dress shoes on my feet and baby claws on my hands, and a long nose with a rounded tip. I wasn't breathing.

That was me. That was  _me_. I pressed against the curve of my jar, straining to scratch a hole in the side and reach through. Just one touch. One would be enough.

"I have nothing else to p-pay with, if you don't want lagelyn or f-fake gold jewellery," Augustus said. Although he stuttered, I didn't detect any trembles in his voice. He kneaded his hands on the table's edge and went on with, "But i-if you let me come, I'll sweep the solid parts of your f-floors every day. I'll clean your dishes, polish the r-rust from the bars on your windows, empty your b-basins, weed your garden, and I can p-preen your feathers too. If you want. I can t-try."

"Weed my garden?" Suddenly, Anti-Venus's attention clicked in. Augustus pressed his ears against his skull.

"D-does that work for you, dame? Do we have a d-deal?"

Anti-Venus folded her arms. "Weed my garden… I think, sweet Gus, that you may be on to something here." She handed my jar to Anti-Charite, and then grabbed a trowel from the coffee table. "Snag a pair of gloves and that big sack from the hook in the corner, and follow me out front. Look sharp now."

She left the parlour, a puzzled Augustus floating at her heels with the indicated gloves. Anti-Charite and I shared a sideways glance. With a shrug, she followed after them, leaving my unmoving body completely behind.

Despite her wings, Anti-Venus made her way through the tower on foot, hopping left and right to avoid thorns and clumps of poison ivy. Augustus and Anti-Charite took advantage of their wings and soared overhead. I focused what little attention I could scrape together on his jerking movements. The parlour had been lit by the fireplace. No lanterns or torches watched over the halls. Anti-Charite flew with the inattentive air of a damsel who had wandered the tower passageways a hundred years or more. Augustus hit every pillar and gargoyle on the way out.

The ever-scarlet sky tinted each grey and green hill with orange. Black clouds scuttled between Anti-Fairy World and the silver moon half-hiding beneath the horizon. If I elaborated further, I would be drastically exaggerating the abilities of my smoky form. One constant thought wrung my neck with every passing wingbeat: my situation was fast deteriorating. The further Anti-Charite hauled me from my body, the more squeamishly erratic my movements became.

Anti-Venus lighted on the tower's front step and waited for Augustus to stagger outside. When he did, bruised and bushy-furred, she grabbed his wrists and flipped his palms upward. Her tongue clicked in disapproval. "Tender hands. Well, we can fix that right quick, eh?"

"W-what do you need me to do, dame?"

"Take care of an invasive species, dear Augustus." Anti-Venus wrapped one feathered wing around his thin shoulder. With the other, she gestured to the hills. "Living this near the Tír Ildáthach border is a blessing as far as unfrozen water is concerned. I have more of that then I know what to do with. But, no paradise is unfailingly upendi, hm? No, honeycomb; no it's not. Now. You see that blurry green wall across the lake?"

"The B-B-Barrier?"

She scrubbed his ears. "Atta boy!"

Come on. Even _I_ knew that one, and I wasn't even born yet.

"Did you know that millennia ago, before the War of the Sunset Divide, that nasty ol' gate didn't used to be there clogging up our skies and telling us where in the cloudlands we can and can't go?" Anti-Venus folded her arms. "No, no- back in my day, the Fairies were more subtle about expressing their dislike for us. They used to mark the entire length of the border up and down with clover. Clover, Augustus! How I long for the political correctness of those centuries once more."

"Oh. Um… F-four-leaf clovers, dame?"

"Some of them. They were trying to breed an entirely four-leafed strain, last I heard." Anti-Venus released his shoulder. "You said your camarilla were giving you an education back at the Blueie. I'm curious. Tell me, what'd happen if some local fauna like a jackalope went and gobbled up a four-leaf clover from that field?"

"W-we Anti-Fairies can't eat it, then. Or t-touch it at all while it's still in its s-stomach."

"Right. And what happens if an Anti-Fairy like you, or like me, goes and rolls about over there?"

Augustus played with the gloves in his hands. "Uh. W-we're manifestations of negative energy, warded off by g-good luck. As long as we k-keep away from clovers with f-four leaves, we'll be o-okay."

"Ayep yep and dazzle me Jane. Hey, I should ask three more questions just so you can shout 'Bingo' for the sheer heck of it. Thing is, those Fairies never took back their clover when they put up their wall, and now the nasty stuff has encroached upon my poor garden. That's why I need you to pluck those four-leafs out for me."

She drummed her talons against his head. Augustus swallowed. "Okay. I can do that, if I c-can have my brother when I'm done. W-what part is your garden?"

Anti-Venus and Anti-Charite both swept their arms and wings out to indicate the gentle hills. I watched Augustus's ears, already weighed down by the  _canetis_ rings, sink even lower.

"It stretches from that corner of the woods way out there, along the Barrier, and  _allll_  the way to that mill over there, by the canal," Anti-Venus said, in case he hadn't gotten it yet. "I want this whole field plucked of four-leafs before I give you your brother."

Augustus slipped on each glove and studied me, still stuck and agitated in my jar. "W-would you be okay if I j-just burned it?"

"And put that poisonous aura of good fortune in the air? Yeah, that was my original plan." She flashed her fangs in a smirk. "But then you volunteered to do it the hard way. So get cracking."

Without any further complaint besides a twitch in the corner of his mouth, Augustus waded into the field. He cocked his head to the right and began a careful sweeping motion back and forth. It took him a few minutes to nail down a four-leaf, even with the repulsive cheeriness it emitted into the magical energy field. But when he crouched to pluck it out, he jerked back at once. Even through my jar, I heard a sizzling snap not unlike that of a lightning bolt. He looked over his shoulder, glove steaming.

"Use the trowel," Anti-Venus advised, lacing her talons behind her back.

I'd have made a face in his position- at the utter least. Screamed for assistance and hexed her when she refused, more probably. Stomped about her plants until all that were not relevant had been trampled underfoot? Quite certainly. But Augustus simply did what he was asked. He was just so… so…  _goody-goody_  that way. The crumpled clover balanced on the tip of his trowel for three long seconds. Then he dumped it in the linen sack and blew out a sigh.

"Do it just like that," she said, and walked back inside the tower.

Anti-Charite propped my jar on a sack of seeds within a wheelbarrow. For the next three hours (or so I've been informed), she advised, comforted, and taunted Augustus as he milled about the hills. Eventually she tired of the game, and wandered after her sister with me in tow. My countenance brightened as we scaled the tower's porch. We were nearing my body once again!

First, supper. Anti-Venus, Anti-Charite, and Anti-Ludell prepared their eggs and salad in the tower alone, without another anti-cherub to be seen, and they bickered ceaselessly amongst each other; even having food on her tongue, it seemed, could not deter the former from running her mouth.

From my new vantage point on the sill of a barred window, I had an excellent view of Augustus as he continued to prune the clover across the hills. His movements were tender, as though he took no joy in disturbing the pink wildflowers and browning leaves any more than absolutely necessary. I found it revolting, and perhaps Augustus did not actually disagree. Ten minutes into the anti-cherubs' mealtime, he leaned over and released a barrage of monarch butterflies from his stomach. Live, squirming butterflies that wriggled from his throat and took off into the shadows like they were chasing prayers.

_How horrid! Must I cough up such revolting insects when I become an anti-fairy?_

I "glanced" for the thousandth time at my body, which Anti-Venus had sat on her lap for the purpose of toting about like a doll. My scrappy fur had gleamed a deep, dull sapphire from the moment Augustus brought it in. Even in the kitchen's red torchlight, it looked just a shade darker now. Another day gone without a soul.

When the dishes had been cleaned of food but not yet cleared away, Anti-Venus excused herself to touch base with the new gardener. I watched their hands move as they spoke. Elegant for Anti-Venus. Jerky for Augustus, like his stutter. After a time, she pointed across the hills to the conifer forest, and sent Augustus presumably off to the Blue Castle (under strict orders, I'm sure, not to inform anyone of the deal the two of them had struck).

He looked up at my window. And before he disappeared into the trees with his bulging sack, he waved. Like he thought I could wave back.

Anti-Venus plucked a few stray clover from her tower's base before she came inside. "He made good progress for just one afternoon," she announced, tossing them in Anti-Ludell's lap (He fell back, hissing as they steamed). "The dazzling thing about getting an anti-fairy to do this for me instead of a Seelie is, Antis can pin down a four-leaf from a quarter of a mile away."

"Six metres," Anti-Charite corrected.

"So I was wrong for once in my life. Statistically, it was bound to happen."

"What time does he show tomorrow?" asked Anti-Ludell, grabbing a wet cloth from the sink.

"First thing, he said. What a guy! So, I don't have time to waste. You two are going to want to haul tail and bring in all the clean water that you can for storage. And where'd you tuck that new crystal ball?"

Anti-Charite pointed from the kitchen and into the parlour. Humming, fingers fluttering, Anti-Venus went after it. I'd hardly completed a frustrated rotation inside my jar when she said, "Hilda McPunchy, do I ever have a dealio for you. Anti-V. herself here. Anti-Venus. Serafina? From the- Atta girl. Now, there's a major Anti-Fairy water source just inside the border that would benefit remarkably from a dash of clover sprinkled in and roundabout. A crate would suffice- you know the kind I mean."

Even in my smoky form, I think I may have started. Augustus hadn't made it to the banks of the canal yet, and there was Anti-Venus, plotting to stock her fields! She was cheating!

I found myself impressed.

"Payment?" Anti-Venus snickered to the stars. "What else! Listen, Hil. Can I call you Hil? I don't cut this kind of slice with just anyone, but you do this and I'd be willing to offer your counterpart her daughter's soul. Probably. Mostly probably. Fair?"

McPunchy couldn't hustle over fast enough.

The next day, Anti-Charite hauled Augustus through the parlour and across the kitchen by his elbow. Anti-Venus hardly glanced up from her watering can.

"What did you drag him in here for?"

"He wanted to see the thing," Anti-Charite said, shoving Augustus towards my windowsill. He straightened his rumpled bow without expression. His eyes flickered to me. Then away.

"I j-j-just wanted to wish you a fine morning, brother. I'll have y-you out of there soon enough. I'm s-sorry. I know you want your body, but I c-can't let you out yet. Y-you'll just have to be p-patient, even though p-poor Cosmo Prime must be s-so sick…"

"Don't let him too close, sister," cautioned Anti-Ludell, "or he's liable to break that jar and be done with us here and now."

Augustus's ears, weighed down though they were by their rings, snapped to attention. He turned his neck. "I made a p-p-promise to Anti-Venus. The ag-g-greement is, I'll have my brother w-when I'm finished weeding the c-clover from your gardens. I g-gave my word. And I will not go back on it n-now."

I could have cuffed him for his obliviousness. But I didn't have hands.

"So noble," Anti-Charite said, her voice glittering with mockery.

Anti-Venus leaned over and splashed Augustus's shoulder with the water from her can. "That's enough looking. Please leave now."

The day passed, marked by ashy clouds sliding across the hills, and no one removed my jar from the window. The day after that passed again, and the day following it too, and then the day after, and after that, and after that. Every morning without fail, Augustus stopped in to see me. And every evening, when he left for home, he would wave to my window on his way. A charming gesture, if a rather pointless one.

"Charming," Anti-Venus agreed one day, standing near my window with one hand placed on her chest. With the other, she lifted a sip of water to her lips. "It's delightfully ironic that a young drake who's spent three months up to his calves in good-luck charms could befall such misfortune all of a sudden, don't you think so, Anti-Cosmo?"

I didn't respond- wouldn't have if I'd been able to. Augustus had already left for the evening, but now he was coming back. And two hulking anti-elves were yanking him along by the wings. A third trailed behind with a black wand raised. In Augustus's trembling hands was a linen sack.

A familiar linen sack.

"What's that shouting about?" Anti-Ludell called from the parlour as Augustus's frantic,  _"I didn't do it! Stop!"_ s drifted through the bars on the kitchen windows.

"Three members of Anti-Bryndin's camarilla jumped our poor wittle Gus in the woods as he was skipping along with his load for the day." Anti-Venus placed her mug beside my jar with a clink of ceramic. "Sounds like they're investigating the pollution in our water supply. Good news! I think they just caught their culprit red-handed."

"It wasn't me," Augustus sobbed. He clung to the damsel's wrist. His pupils zipped left and right, and landed on my jar. "Don't t-t-take me back to the Castle. Don't t-tell Mama that I snuck out. A-Anti-Bryndin will flay me if he f-finds out I came this close to the b-border!"

I recoiled in silent pity.

The stockier of the two drakes spotted Anti-Venus at the window and lifted his crown with one thumb. "Beg pardon, dame, but we'd like to have a word with you."

She leaned forward on her elbows. "Of course, Anti-Alin. Thanks kindly for coming so soon after I called. When I saw that boy poking around the canal, I figured there was about to be trouble. It was over there, by the mill. Anti-Ludell, be a champ and show them where I mean. I'm super lazy and don't feel like doing it myself."

He rustled his way towards the door with a mutter.

"Can you identify or have you had any recent dealings with this young drake?"

Anti-Venus tapped her cheek. "Hmm. Well, since his eyes are green instead of red, I can see he carries the iris virus. He's got those  _canetis_  rings in his ears this late in life along with that huge honker of a nose, so by my calculations he's probably Anti-Bryndin's little Anti-Robin. I mean, probably. I don't remember his private name. Huh. But yeah, I think I saw him at a migration once or twice years ago. Don't think I've ever talked to him, except for yesterday when I shouted across the field for him to stay away from our water. Then I called you up. Oh look, here we are now."

"That's a lie- she's l-l-lying! I was only at the c-canal because sh-she told me to go!"

"Really?" Anti-Alin fixed Augustus with one blue eye. "And what sort of business did you have up here at the border with Fairy World, with the ambassador of anti-love herself?"

With the delicacy of a crumb cake, Anti-Venus placed a warning claw on the lid of my jar. I steamed in silence. Augustus clamped his jaw shut and refused to answer.

The damsel holding Augustus's wing bumped his shoulder. "That about does it. C'mon, Gus. Let's get you home." Then she chuckled. "Yeesh, your mom is gonna spaz."

"Back to the stables for you," Anti-Alin said, rumpling his ears.

"Don't- You d-don't understand. Friday the 13th is j-just a week away- Please-"

"Lighten up," scoffed the third anti-fairy. "We'll bring you back a souvenir."

I could feel Anti-Venus's amusement burning through her fur as she got up to put her mug in the sink. Hot, sadistic, amusement. And brother or not… I couldn't even blame her.

"I'm not going to l-let you j-just-just tie me up with the u-unicorns again. That's! Not!  _Fair!_ " Augustus swung his sack of clover blindly. It clashed against the bars of the kitchen window and caught my jar smack in the centre. I flew off the counter. I flew across the kitchen. I flew until I hit the nearest wall and shattered in a firework of glass.

Anti-Venus let out a long, low hiss. I didn't even wait to hit the ground before I zipped for the door.

"Oh, smoof. I d-didn't mean to. I-I just got really frustrated and… Good smoke- Anti-Venus, I'm s-sorry!"

I'd have been prepared to race through every room, around the corner, up the stairs, down the hall, in and out of doors- but my square body, smart in its white funeral attire, lay only as far as Anti-Venus's armchair in front of the parlour's simmering fire. That made everything so much simpler.

Just one touch. One was enough.

Smoke exploded in all directions. My senses zinged from nilch to beyond infinite. I found that I was standing, although not for long. The moment I became aware of my legs, I staggered back, grabbing uselessly for the armchair- the coffee table- the bookshelf- missed. Shortly thereafter the ground was beneath me, and I rolled about on the rug in my awkward square form, clinging to my stomach and laughing like a madman. This was it. This was  _it!_

When I had finished hugging myself, I swayed to my feet and arched my back. My arms stretched for the ceiling, whereupon I wiggled my fingers. And then I laughed at the sensation. Bringing them level with my chest, I flipped them over and studied the wrinkles along my palms. Oh, and such beautiful wrinkles they were! I swore then and there I would love all of mine, no matter how old I ever grew. My face- I had a face, coated with some mix of soft skin and baby scales and downy fur that I had no name for. Over and over, I ran my hands up and down my long nose and flushed cheeks.

"Bloody Darkness! Oooh, I'd no idea in the slightest that uniting lifesmoke and core tasted sooo  _scrumptious_. It's a smashing day when you hear someone say 'Good smoke' and know they're speaking of you, you know what I mean? Oh goodness, I daresay I'm overselling myself. It would seem I've yet to learn how and when to wag this sudden lump of vocabulary I've procured. Ah, where was I now?"

My ears. I had enormous ears; beautiful ears that swivelled at my command, scooping up sound from all directions. The little black crown that had always been firmly stuck to my body's head was floating now. Floating between my beautiful ears. I touched each one of its six points. Little wings dangled from my back, drooping and weak from months without use. Thick blue hair, darker even than my fur, dangled in front of me. It made me dizzy just to cross my eyes and stare at its ends. I had… eyebrows? Yes. Shoulders? For sure. Knees? They could bend. A neck? Chunky at best, but I'd grow into it. My fascinated fingers dropped to my clothes. White suit. Three buttons. Socks, shoes, and…

"Ah!" I felt again just to be sure, but yes. A tail! A little tufted tail crumpled in the back of my trousers. No one had informed me I was going to have a tail. What a delight, to have solid shape and form!

My ears twitched at a sound. I turned my head then, still grasping my rear. Anti-Venus herself leaned against the arched doorway, coughing on lingering traces of smoke. The stinging of it had turned her eyes red around the rims. When she looked up, her nostrils flared at the smell. Or with fury. But her fangs flashed in a sweeping grin. She spread her arms.

"Anti-Cosmo. Well, you sure got bigger since the last time I saw you. Seems like only yesterday, you were thiiis small."

"Blinding, isn't it? And about jolly time too. Though of course, had I been at all punctual, you wouldn't have been around to appreciate it." I pressed my hands - two actual hands - to my chest and ran them down to my waist. The motion was so exhilarating that I did it again. "Good smoke, talking is delicious. Did you know that? I hope you treasure the thought, darling. I've been locked away in that gloomy gas chamber for months now, hearing words and only just being able to make sense of them. They were such pleasant words, too. And how I can speak them now, ahaha!"

I wrapped my arms about my middle again, vaguely aware of the way Anti-Venus studied me in silence.  _Let her gawk,_  I thought, opening one eye to a slit. I embraced myself more tightly.  _I've waited a pre-lifetime for this._

The novelty of soul and body becoming one all but wore off a wingbeat later as I remembered precisely where I was. I straightened in a snap, jabbing my claw towards the kitchen door. "Ooh, and I remember. Yes! I remember it was you who told those nasty lies about my brother. It was you who poisoned the canal with lucky clover- you and McPunchy both. I remember it exactly."

"Is that so?" Anti-Venus continued leaning against the archway, but now she placed her hand to a sort of pouch that hung by her left hip. "That's too bad."

" _Rrr_ eally?" The word rolled pleasantly off my tongue and filled me with a strange warmth. Or… perhaps that was the roaring fire at my backside. I shifted a few steps away from it, still wobbly on my new feet, and smirked up at her. "Why, pray tell?"

"It's too bad because if you were a fairy, I'd just kill you and get this over with. But Anti-Fairies don't die easily, do they, blocky? Huh. So, I'm going to have to beat you into submission if it keeps you from throwing me under the carriage." Before she even finished her sentence, she snapped her wand out and slammed me in the chest with a burst of pink light. I flew against the low part of the wall, this time without a glass enclosure to take the hit for me. My spine hit first, and then my skull. Briefly, the universe blinked to black. My wings twisted beneath me, crackling with dry skin. Jars rattled on their shelves. I did not stick to the wall and then slide down- I bounced and flopped face-first into the thorny vines and roots snaking over the dirty floor.

"Oof," I mumbled, unnecessarily and with a highly delayed reaction. I made an attempt to roll, only to find that the flat sides of my cube-shaped body made that impossible. Apparently, rolling could be achieved only with a great deal of momentum. Poppycock. I was going to lose my first fight because I was a big pathetic baby who couldn't even roll over.

"No hard feelings?" Anti-Venus asked as she strode towards me.

I lifted my head, my thin arms trembling with the effort. My ears pricked up at the sound of rattling above. Then I pushed myself up to my knees and said, quite simply, "No."

The first jar plunged directly between us and split in the dirt. The crack along its glass was thin, but effective. Smoke billowed into the room. A second jar fell. Then a third. I stumbled to my feet, pinwheeling my arms and wings. One hand slapped the wall. I glanced back, squinting through the rushing smoke. I was… It was… I hadn't moved far from the fireplace. Right. And if there was a fireplace…

I flattened myself to the wall just in time to avoid Anti-Venus's next blind blast of blue. Each time I took a step, I did so with my flailing hand stretched out in front of me. My vision was blurred with grey, but I quickly deduced that the smoke in the room was rising. It clung thickest around Venus's eye level - at least for now - which left me with the slightest advantage.

Slight was all I needed. There. Three metal poles lay in the dirt by my shoe. Long metal poles- meant for creatures of the cold to stir up the logs in a fire from afar. Four times my length, easily, but I wrapped both thin fists around the poker anyway and hoisted it up. My feet slipped backwards. My wings, for the first time, flapped in an effort to maintain my balance. I clenched my fangs.

"I say. You're not nearly as heavy as I thought you'd be."

Anti-Venus reacted instantly. The moment she heard my voice, smoke or not, she aimed her wand in my direction. The star on its tip glowed bright red, but fired pink. It grazed my cheek, knocking me down again. By the time I'd braced myself against the wall, Anti-Venus had snatched me up with her free hand.

Up.

Up.

The last of the bitter smoke filled my mouth and nose. I squeezed my eyes to slits as Anti-Venus brought me near her face. "Pleasant dreams," I choked out, and swung the poker at her head.

As I did so, the smoke cleared enough that I realised my mistake. This wasn't the poker.

This was the ash broom.

The bristled end of the broom smacked against Anti-Venus's forehead. I blinked at her, and she blinked back at me. Then I reared my foot and kicked her jaw up into her teeth.

Anti-Venus released me at once, and her hands flew to her mouth. That, at least, was what I'd been counting on. Between her distraction and the momentum of my fall, I intercepted her fingers on my way to the ground and wrenched her wand right out of them.

I hadn't planned to- I didn't even know how to- I was only- and yet-

_Poof!_

The world fell away beneath me. I materialised in front of Augustus, startled and jittery. He was by the trees again, being dragged backwards by the same two, er… "camarilla court" members. And I was floating?

I fell the moment I became aware of my height. Augustus yelped and yanked his hands from his captors, I yelped and made a grab for the heavy wand as it slipped in my grasp, and everything went black again.

As suddenly as I had disappeared, I found myself standing in the parlour once more, now facing the corner farthest from the kitchen. Green light from the fire painted shadows in front of me, and one in particular was growing huge. I spun around, wrapping as much of my body as absolutely possible around the wand, as Anti-Venus stalked towards me. Embers glowed in her black hair and fell like comets to the floor. Dirt crumbled along the folds of her blouse. She held out her hand.

"Give me the wand, Anti-Lunifly."

This heavy thing? I could barely lift it. Every second strained my muscles to their max. Out of impulse, I directed the star-tipped end of the wand at her shoulder. Anti-Venus didn't stop coming. I shut my eyes.

"I'll shoot. I'll shoot!"

One accidental beam did go off. It nicked her arm. "And that hurts?" she scoffed. "There's like half a centimetre between your crown and your head, tops. Hate to break the rotten eggshell over you, but a late bloomer like you only got the dregs of yours and your counterparts' magic pool."

"I just…" Burning, I tightened my grip. "No…"

"Pup, you're a newborn in a deteriorating body. You're nothing. Now. Give. Me. The. Wand."

I fired again. Not  _at_  her shoulder. Under it. Anti-Venus didn't whirl around at first- not until my green blast hit the fire and erupted. Her mantel caved in, bringing trinkets and teacups along with it. Chunks of alabaster flew across the room. Plants vaporised to instant crisps. The reek of strange chemicals filled my nostrils like rotting food and smouldering hair.

And all her shelves, every jar, came tumbling down.

"Ta-ta," I managed, before hugging her wand and blinking outside once again.

"Aug…" I croaked when I saw him, dropping Anti-Venus's wand. My teleporting had left me in the air again. At least without the wand's weight, my wings were winning the fight to stay aloft. Behind me, shouts barreled back and forth between antis that I assumed had been Augustus's guards a mere second and a half ago.

My brother stared straight through me to the burning tower. "S-something reacted badly w-with the Ghostfire in the p-p-parlour. Nothing can p-put that out. It will e-engulf the building within a m-minute and burn for years. Those p-poor anti-cherubs."

"What?" All of a sudden I was back at peak alertness. My wings, finally giving out, dropped me within a centimetre of the yellow grass. Stepping over Anti-Venus's wand, I took his trousers in two fists. "Augustus, Anti-Venus lied about you. She tried to get you in trouble with the cama _rrr_ illa- and, from the sound of it, the High Count himself. And… And I'm alive now! We don't need to stay here."

He looked down at me, not… not really looking. "Th-those other jars… I was g-going to ask A-Anti-Venus if I could work f-for them after I saved you."

"It's fine! I broke them. That smoke- see all that smoke leaving this place? That's them! The other lifesmoke jars. Augustus, I…" The notion was so ridiculous, I pressed the heel of one hand into my eye socket and laughed. "I saved them! You spent months crawling about in that dratted clover field, a-and I just took the easy way and shattered them all."

Augustus recoiled. "Well. That doesn't s-solve the actual problem. We d-didn't change their hearts. A-Anti-Venus and her anti-cherubs are j-just going to do it again, c-catching lifesmoke in jars…"

"Who cares?" I screeched, tearing fabric with my claws. "I'm alive! Now let's  _go!_ "

"Look sharp!" Augustus dropped himself over me, shielding me almost entirely from an explosion of heat that dried all moisture from blistering the sky. Even before he moved his arm away, I had to blink ash from the lashes of my eyes. Augustus tried to keep me from seeing, but it was difficult to miss the green fire pouring from every window on the tower's bottom floor. Which now consisted of about every floor. The upper half of Anti-Venus's tower had, completely, collapsed.

"Good," I said. "Now we can leave."

"Hey!" Augustus shoved me to the grass and, scrambling as he ran, tore across the clover field to the base of the rubble. He whipped his head back and forth, then found what he was looking for and grabbed something I couldn't see. An… arm? Was that an arm? As he yanked, he stammered out, "A-Anti-Venus, I'm so s-sorry. I made a p-promise that I wouldn't f-free my brother until we ag-g-greed-"

She pushed him back, and he floated in the air, wings snapping like the sparks of the Ghostfire, as the anti-cherub heaved herself to her feet. Most of her braid had come loose, and she pushed her fingers through its waves. "I think you've done enough."

"B-but I'm so-"

"I think. You've done. Enough."

Augustus trailed back to me, glancing over his shoulder every few paces. I hadn't gotten up from the grass where I'd been tossed aside. And when he extended his hand, I didn't take it. It was only when he actually scooped me up and held me to his shoulder that I found my voice again.

"So… are we…?"

"I'm t-taking you home to the B-Blue Castle now. M-my name is Augustus A-Anti-L-L-Lunifly. I'm your big b-brother."

"And I'm the Anti-Cosmo, aren't I?" I twisted in his grip, straining to catch his eye. "Ooh, don't you despise it when someone answers his own question? I do."

Augustus continued to gaze hollowly through the trees, sticking perfectly to the marked path and only veering to one side or the other when he absolutely had to. "Uh, d-don't throw your adult name around like that. W-we'll have to call you s-something else for now. Um. Well, you  _are_  the Anti-Cosmo, s-so I guess we can call you… Omsoc."

"Omsoc." I lay a claw to my lips, and used the other hand to snap my fingers a few times. My chin bumped against his shoulder. "It is awfully memorable, isn't it? I'm rather fond of it."

"I hope so. B-because I'm going to talk to the N-Navy Robe and make it official as soon as I can. Then m-maybe they'll let us stay together. We c-can't let Mama find out you're still a-alive, okay?"

Insulted, I scrunched my nose at him. "I'll introduce myself to whomever I please, thank you."

"No. Omsoc." Augustus took me off his shoulder and held me out at arms' length. For the first time since I'd received my body, those green eyes found their way straight into mine. "Please, l-listen to me. I know y-you're just a pup and i-it's hard to understand, but you c-can't go looking for Mama. Don't t-talk to anyone about Mama- don't even  _th-think_  about Mama." His eyes slipped away. "It's b-better like this. I promise."

"Oh." I stared over his shoulder, back towards the burning tower. "I left Anti-Venus's wand in the grass. We could have used it to travel there in an instant."

His fingers tightened around my waist. "Sh-she's going to need it more than w-we will. Mama could t-track us if she heard us  _p-poof_ ing nearby anyway."

Augustus taught me how to fly properly as we continued on our walk, though he kept his own feet firmly planted on the ground. "F-flying's not for me," he said each time I took his wrist in my hands. "You g-go ahead. I trust you to be c-careful. Just stay c-close, is all."

"But if I fly ahead, I'll have to fly back every other minute to confirm you haven't gotten lost or attacked by those camarilla ruffians, because my going ahead evidently has no impact on your willingness to increase your walking speed," I pouted, ducking a sweeping conifer bough.

He smirked. "I p-p-play to everyone else's needs all the t-time. Other people can p-play to the way I w-walk once in awhile."

"Do those heavy rings weighing down your ears truly render it difficult for you to fly?" I flipped onto my stomach as I coasted beside him. "You'll have to enlighten me on the subject."

"Oh. Yeah, I g-guess you were just born a f-few hours ago." Augustus snagged a cone-like seed from the ground and bounced it in his palm. "Well, a  _canetis_  is a h-hunting ritual every Anti-Fairy pup p-participates in the year they turn f-fifty years old. You're s-supposed to prove you can use your e-e-echolocation, and that you c-could survive on Ear- er… i-in the woods if you h-had too. A-and then if you pass your  _canetis_ , then you g-get to have someone t-take the rings out of your e-ears."

All of a sudden, Augustus began to pick up the pace. For just a moment, I hung back to study him.

"So the rings stay in if you don't pass your  _canetis_ ," I prompted then.

He tossed the cone aside. "Y-yeah. Pups wear r-rings when they're young, to k-keep them close to their parents ins-s-stead of just w-wandering off. The rings w-weigh them down, so they can't use e-echolocation easily. S-so they can't see, and they won't l-leave. The r-rings are important like that, f-for helping parents raise r-rebellious pups. I mean, if you… well…" Augustus turned his head, fiddling with his claws. "R-rings are involved if the p-pup is raised in civilised s-society, I mean. There are, um… Th-there's lots of stuff about it. Uh. Yeah."

As he continued hurrying along the woodland path, I squinted. "So the  _canetis_  is a  _rrr_ equired evaluation that determines your worth in society based wholly upon a skill you have been actively discouraged from developing your entire life. Am I wrong?"

"Eh, well. It's t-t-tradition. I'm s-sure it made more s-sense a long time ago. This is j-just what the Anti-Coppertalon l-line expects us all to d-do now. And there's n-no helping that."

"You're over 30,000 and never passed," I stated in my bluntest voice, just to see what Augustus would do if I pushed him around a bit.

"I haven't p-passed," he said cheerily. " _Yet_. N-no one pays attention to me, which means I c-can afford to slip away from the C-Castle more often than anyone. I g-get away with doing a lot of good d-deeds. I've improved the l-lives of so many p-people…" He set his fangs, brightly beaming, as the pale fur prickled across his cheeks. "A-and the only price I had to pay to h-help them was my wings."

"Hm," I said, and flew ahead again.

Within a few more minutes we reached the woods' edge, and I could gape at the splendour of the Blue Castle for the first time. It floated like an oasis in the dreary red sky. Floated on a little plot of cloud all its own. And in case the moat of pure emptiness that dropped straight from this plane of existence to Earth didn't dissuade unwelcome visitors, nasty coils of barbed wire promised to turn them away.

"I live  _here?_ "

"Three words: You d-do now." He ruffled my hair into my eyes until I smacked his hand away.

A violet bridge connected the floating fortress to the mainland clouds. Enormous chunks of metal and glass jabbed from its pathway like fishhooks. Augustus picked his way across to the Castle's entrance regardless. No guards on the turrets. The portcullis was up and everything. He just lifted the knocker, eased open the door, and walked straight in. As Augustus had explained to me that the Blue Castle functioned as a government building as well as the home of the High Count, Countess, camarilla, and all their children, I amended my belief that politics were a bloody business.

"Yes… I suppose it's physically impossible for we Anti-Fairies to die so long as our counterparts are thriving, hmm? Fair enough, then."

"W-we'll regenerate if we get t-too hurt." His ears pricked just a bit, rings jingling at their tips. As soon as we stepped within the castle, a line of torches lit the hall with red. On instinct, I shrunk behind Augustus. Pillars, arches, tapestries emerging from the darkness… it was a little much, all at once. I zinged my eyes back and forth, not sure which detail to focus on first. That the pillars were round and ionic, with black vine designs wrapped about their lengths? That many arches tapered to a sharp point at their tops? That the tapestries bore designs of crescent moons swallowing the stars?

The castle's floor was stone, and it made Augustus's footsteps echo like the dickens. As he continued speaking, he eased off his shoes until he stood there in just his socks. "They sh-should've all gone to d-dinner. No one would ever come c-calling during dinner, We'll n-n-need to hurry while they're d-distracted, but I th-think we can sneak you p-past."

"Brilliant. I am awfully famished, though."

"You'll have to w-wait until we get you s-settled in."

"But I'm hungry," I repeated, lifting my shoulders and my brows.

Augustus turned to me and sighed. "I kn-know, okay? I know. I d-didn't even want to b-break your jar this early, b-because now that you have a body, y-you'll want to eat, even though you can't d-die and you don't really  _have_  to. But I'll b-bring you something later. We c-can't let Mama see you, r-remember?"

I mumbled my assent.

"Besides, intruding on a b-big meal is very rude."

"And I certainly have an aversion to presenting myself as rude."

"I'll c-carry you," he said, holding his arms out to me. "Y-your flapping is stirring up the magical e-energy field. Even Mama will h-hear that."

"I'll walk, thank you." I landed on the stone with all the elegance a newborn cube is capable of and smoothed out the wrinkles in my white suit with my hand. "I wish to retain  _some_  sense of dignity."

"You let me c-carry you in the woods."

"Growing up so fast, aren't I?" I asked, clipping after him in my little shoes.

Of course, I paused in front of a set of enormous double doors on my right. Warm, indescribable scents that my baby self couldn't quite name even with all its vocabulary uncurled like tentacles from within. That's what made the scents indescribable, you see. My ears picked up the clatter of plates and silverware, the murmured conversation, the sliding of a chair over stone, the beginnings of an argument. "Hey," Augustus said, tugging me on by the hand. "P-please hurry. I've set up a bed for you in one of the o-old storage rooms. Let's go."

"Food…"

"Shh, shh, y-you have to be quiet. I said- I said you can't go in there. Just t-trust me."

"Trust you? I hardly know you." I flicked my ears. "Anyway, they're eating in the dining room. The kitchen should be safe."

Augustus tightened his lips. "Just b-b-because you can't hear him right now, it d-doesn't mean he isn't there."

"Who?"

"Later." He yanked me along the hall, and this time I moved after him. "H-haven't you learned enough to s-satisfy you right now? You d-don't have to get all the answers all at o-once. Let's please just-"

He ran straight into another anti-fairy before he could finish speaking. His head jerked around. If his ears could have fallen lower, they undoubtedly would have.

"Look who decided to crawl home after all."

"Mama? I…" His hand twitched toward the double doors. "I don't unders-s-stand. I th-thought you were having supper. You never l-leave supper so e-early."

Aha, so this was the infamous damsel who had given birth to my smoke. I peeked beneath Augustus's arm, sizing up her bulky figure. Her black hair coiled across her head and curled about her ears, almost breathing like sleeping snakes, until it fell down her back in easy waves. Lean muscles threatened to pop from her violet tunic sleeves. In her left hand, she braced a wooden staff against the floor. I'd briefly seen a mirror of her face when I'd paid my obligatory visit to Cosmo Prime months before. This damsel had the same pale blue eyes and rounded nose, but the purple-black burn scars on the left side of her face were new, and so was the distant look in her hooded blue eyes.

"We never begin a meal until the entire camarilla is assembled," she said. "Anti-Alin, Anti-Karina, and Anti-Henry  _poof_ ed here only ten minutes ago. When they told me how they'd met you at the border, and you ran, why- I requested Anti-Bryndin's permission to excuse myself and await your belly-crawling arrival out here. I see you didn't have the basic common sense to run in the opposite direction." She knocked him on the back of her head with the thinner end of the staff as she finished up.

"Oh," Augustus managed, not moving.

Mother's eyes oozed down his shoulder, along his arm, and to his hand, which he'd planted over my chest. She jerked herself backwards with a shove of her wings. "Is that your  _brother?_ I thought we had his body thrown out for the opossums and crows months ago. Oh gods, that's disgusting. Don't bring it into the house."

"This is a house?" I asked Augustus, not taking my eyes off the damsel in our way. "You mean, she dresses in an outfit that tight and short on a daily basis? I thought you'd smuggled me into a b _rrr_ othel."

Mother reeled back a second time. Her staff flew up, and this time Augustus threw out his arm to take the blow. I flinched automatically, even though I hadn't been the one hit. The rod thunked against his neck, sending him staggering against the wall. I crept backwards with one foot directly behind the other, feeling the skin beneath my fur chill. I should not have said that. At least, I shouldn't have let my brother take the punishment for something I had said.

I tried to decide if I'd be brave enough to leap forward if Mother swung her staff at Augustus again. I couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer.

"You d-don't have to see him," he sputtered, pushing himself upright again. "I-I'll keep him in my room- It'll be l-l-like he's not even here."

"I had to give birth to that thing," she snapped back, turning her attention my way, "and I will be rewarded for my services. There are no rogues permitted in the Blue Castle. I'll simply have to train him to act proper in public."

Augustus threw himself in front of me again. "Mama, stop! Y-you'll hurt him!"

This time, when I saw her lift her hand, I turned my back and plugged my ears. I stayed that way as Mother pushed one of the double doors to the dining room in. As one, two rows of furry blue faces locked onto the sight- a tough damsel yanking her son into the room by one dangling ear.

"Here." Mother shoved Augustus at Anti-Karina, the damsel from the tower. "Explain to Anti-Bryndin what he did today and have him determine a suitable punishment. I of course support any decision of our High Count."

"Mama, no! P-p-please don't hurt Omsoc. He did n-nothing wrong in being b-born!"

"'Omsoc'? Oh, smoke no. No. Not just 'No', but  _smoke_  no. He'll be given a proper name before the evening's out." Mother reeled her attention around to me, who hadn't moved and hadn't succeeded in blocking out the conversation, even with my claws as they were. For a moment… her blue eyes actually softened. "What would you think if we called you 'Julius', my little cockroach?"

I loathed to admit it, but I did prefer the ring of 'Julius' to 'Omsoc' in my ears.

And speaking of ears, mine were stamped with holes practically the minute our feet crossed into the nursery. I squirmed in Mother's grip as she replaced the puncher on the vanity table, realising what she was about to do, but her arm around my stomach kept me locked in place.

"I think emerald would look dashing on you," she said, oblivious to the way I kicked and bit at her skin. "It matches your lovely eyes. Another iris in the castle, after all these centuries- perhaps, Julius, with you around, I shan't be a lowly third wife of the High Count much longer."

"Don't! I prefer my ears when they're not hanging down my back!"

"You've no choice in the matter of Anti-Fairy tradition. You're no Anti-Coppertalon, scamp." Mother found the emerald rings in the vanity drawer and locked the first one onto my ear. "And, green instead of gold will tell you apart from your brother in case you should turn out to be as hopeless at passing your  _canetis_  as he's been."

"I'll just take these off as soon as you leave," I pointed out, my voice half-muffled by her furry bicep.

"No, you can't. Only a grown-up can figure out how to get them off." She rearranged me on her lap and lifted my chin until I had no choice but to face her. "Leave them as they are, Julius. Or I, Anti-Bryndin, Anti-Elina, and the entire camarilla will all become very, very cross with you."

I folded my arms, the way I'd watched Anti-Venus do a hundred times over the last few months. "If grown-ups are the ones who're supposed to put the  _canetis_  rings in, then I certainly won't stick them on any of my pups' ears. You can't make me."

Mother pinched my cheek and set me down on the nursery floor. "Then your pups are going to run wild across the cloudlands and cause you no end of misery."

"Perhaps. But at least they'll be happy I didn't put  _canetis_  rings in their ears."

"I'm off to supper," she said as she rose to her wings. "I'll check in on you again when it's over. In the meantime, I expect you to stay here. I don't want to have to punish you." She tucked her staff beneath her arm. "I  _really_  don't like punishing, Julius. Don't make me do it, okay?"

The instant she locked the door behind her, I scrambled back onto the stool. The vanity had three drawers, and I wrenched out all of them. Utterly, entirely out, so all the contents and the wooden drawers themselves went bouncing across the floor.

Useless.

Spinning around, I surveyed the nursery again. I was actually heaving now, my body sucking in and puffing out air between my teeth. Ice crystals gathered on my tongue. The nursery contained a diaper-changing table, a deflated rubber ball, a toy chest with its lid thrown back and flowing over with boring wooden unicorns and sailing ships, one crib modelled after an open coffin…

… and in the centre of the room, on top of the craft table, lay a scattered heap of construction paper, a half-eaten packet of salty crackers, a loaf of banana bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a knife as long as my arm. Perfect.

Standing on the table before the vanity mirror, grinding my fangs, I grabbed the tips of both ears in my fist and went to work without a gram of hesitation.

_Clink!_

…

_Clink!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** UPDATE: I would like to clarify something. A Fairy religion known as Daoism is mentioned in this 'fic. It is named after the Daoine Sìth, who are nature spirits described in Scottish folklore. Followers of this religion believe Fairy and Anti-Fairy counterparts will become a single being in the afterlife. This is known as the Daoine form. H.P. is Daoist; Anti-Cosmo is not.
> 
> These beliefs have NO connection to Taoism / Daoism as we know them in our world, and I should have chosen a different name for this religion to avoid confusion. I humbly apologize.
> 
> Also, much of the worldbuilding in this story is influenced by the folklore of several cultures (Celtic folklore especially). Creative liberties have been taken. This 'fic does not intend to portray its worldbuilding as 100% accurate to its inspiration. Everything is intended to be fictional, and if I accidentally portrayed something offensively, please kindly reach out and make me aware.


	2. Growing Pains

_In which the Winter of the Black Lake occurs, and Julius brings a knife to the party_

* * *

_"Uggggggh_." Though I didn't let go of my mouseflesh ball, I gave up fighting my mother and allowed her to drag me off my stool, away from my friends at the craft table, across the floor, out of the nursery chamber, and down the corridor by my ankle. The thumbclaws on the tips of my wings snagged on every crack in every stone. Rugburn flared the membranes with unpleasant heat. Grit soiled my neat blue tunic. I sniffed and watched the end of my nose bounce in the process. "Well, I don't see why I should have to do it. I'm far from being the one who killed her."

"Because you're scrawny, you can use a knife, you're the only one I'm willing to risk on the task, and I said so," Mother snapped.

I watched the ceiling slide by overhead. My echolocation and I had become more and more familiar with it over the last four weeks, with its coffered beams and dangling candelabras. To my mother, I said, "I'd perhaps be willing to float out there on my own if you would so much as unbind my wings."

"You brought this upon yourself, you disobedient little rascal!" Mother swung me around the next corner with little regard for the cinderstone carving of Dayfry himself I smacked against. Oof. I craned my neck as we approached the grand staircase. "And flinging yourself out a second-story window when you were suffering blood and magic loss, why- I still can't even look at you. You deserved every broken bone in your wing for that."

"I'd have preferred to break my head," I drawled as she began pulling me down the stairs. Thank Tarrow for the rug, but the back of my skull still cracked against every step. I sunk my claws into my little ball.

"Don't say such things when you know very well my dear sister Anti-Joanie lies on her deathbed! You'll have your wings tied and get along without whining like a decent anti-fairy pup."

"I don't  _want_  to be a decent anti-fairy pup." I winced as I hit the base of the staircase. Well, at least the worst was over now.

Mother's claws tightened in my ankle. She shook my leg for good measure, then pulled me over to the enormous door of polished bluestone that led outside. Her wings flapped out and withdrew as she reached for the ring to pull it open. "In all my years, I have never seen such a bratty-"

"Anti-Florensa?"

She froze with her fingers resting in the curve of the loop. I froze halfway through sitting up. Both of us twisted around to look at the statue-lined corridor to the right of the staircase that wound deeper along the Castle's main floor. Anti-Bryndin hurried towards us, clutching a fluffy black towel in his hand. The two horns that arced to either side of his head flashed in the flickering torchlight in time with his pumping wings.

He blinked as he pulled up beside us, wings scooping forward. "Why do you drag this pup on the ground?"

My mother opened her mouth, and no words came out. You can't just say, "Because I'm a terrible and abusive person and I totally thought I could behave this way throughout his entire childhood without any of the hundreds of Anti-Fairies I live with ever calling me out about it."

Anti-Bryndin nodded, as though her silence explained everything to him quite nicely, thank you, and keep the change. He picked me up, which forced Mother to drop my ankle. Then he placed me in her arms so her thick bicep cradled my square head. He handed me the ball I'd dropped and nodded again. "Don't drag pups. Carry them like this. Be nice. He is small."

"Thank you!" I cried, throwing my arms in the air. This time, I didn't fling the ball. "I say, Anti-Bryndin, you know how to run a colony."

He nodded a third time and patted the tuft of dark blue hair between my ears. "Look at him. He is small and cold and sickly and weak and sad."

"Thank you, she gets it."

"I- I-" Mother stammered. She stepped away from the door until her wings bumped into the wall. Torches hissed down at us from either side. She turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut. Her claws clenched my legs. I shifted my gaze between her and Anti-Bryndin. He still floated there with his lips pursed and head to one side. His black horns glinted again. Two fingers trailed up to the yellow button on his scarf.

"Anti-Florensa? I ask you don't drag pups by their feet. You will carry them, or they will walk, but you do not drag a pup down our stairs or anywhere inside or outside the castle. Is this okay?"

"Um." Mother didn't open her eyes, or turn her head forward. "Yes, High Count."

Anti-Bryndin's bright eyes softened with a glimmer. Leaning forward, he took my mother's chin in his left hand and kissed her on the mouth. It was a mite weird to watch them do that above my head, but I clung to the front of my tunic and kept quiet about it.

"Please be soft," he ordered when he'd eased away. "The pups are alive now. They are not dead. They feel deep inside their souls when you hurt them. You do not have to like pups, but you should be nice."

"Yes, High Count."

We continued to look at each other. Then he raised one eyebrow. "Are you opening the door for me to go outside now?"

"Uh." Mother dropped her gaze to me, then flicked it back up to him. Shifting me against her chest, she dipped her head and reached for the metal ring on the left-hand door. She gave a tug. Polished stone rasped along polished stone as it swung inward. Anti-Bryndin took off the instant it was open, the tail of his scarf flapping between his wings. I squinted up at the sky, and Mother wedged her foot in the door to hold it open. The two of us waited until he had moved a sufficient distance away. Then she turned her glare back on me.

"Well, you had better get used to being flightless, you little whelp, because if this is the sort of be _hav_ iour you exhibit in front of the Fairies when you're older, why- you'll have one of their magic-draining suits slapped on you before your prayers reach the constellations. And in sacred red, too." Mother set me down on the floor. Or rather, she dropped me and let me find my own way there. When I was slow to pick myself up again, she grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. "Now, if you don't like it, you ought not to have ruined your pretty ears."

I puffed out my cheeks at the mention of my ears, so flawless once before and now ragged and uneven at their tips. She had me there. That bit of fluff and skin, yes, I had decided I could stand to do without. Such a small price to pay to lose the  _canetis_  rings and regain my ability to fly. A pity I hadn't recognized how even that tiny amount of blood loss would be enough to unbalance my feeble square body; oh, how desperately I wanted to grow up.

Mother had hit the figurative roof when I'd jumped through the nursery window. I'd hit the cinders solidly on my right side.  _Crack_ , went my soft little wing beneath me. It was a little miracle I hadn't made it much farther from the Castle than I did, lest I'd have plunged down through the empty moat to the Earth far below.

Stunned from my fall and twitching in pain, I hadn't precisely been in the mindset to run across the drawbridge whether or not I had the physical ability to. Mother had yanked me inside again, screaming about the difference between "magic-touched" knives which did not cause lasting damage to a magical creature and the unenchanted variety which resulted in bleeding and painful tearing. You can imagine which one I'd been unfortunate enough to saw at my eartips with.

For my dreadful punishment, Mother had taken an enchanted blade and slit both my poor wings near my shoulders, then threaded a coil of thick white rope through the punctures and allowed the membrane to seal around it. So, while I had technically dodged the fate of dealing with  _canetis_  rings in my ears, now I was stuck with my wings effectively tied together. All this without one of those magic-touched thingamabobs to pry the knot loose with, too. I didn't dare try going at my wings with an unenchanted blade. Not until I could confirm whether or not they would heal. And even then, the thought of deliberately causing myself that level of pain prompted hesitation enough.

I'd already tried sneaking into the kitchens in search of some sort of magical knife. However, Anti-Robin, the head servant there, never failed to sense me crawling about the slaughtered rabbits (separated from their paws before brought inside for obvious reasons), barrels of cheese (which I didn't much care for), open crates of salt and bread (both delicious, especially together and fried), and floppy sacks of flour. Even more meat hung from the ceiling in the cellar; we had more food in Anti-Fairy World than we knew what to do with. I'd ventured into the kitchens on eleven separate occasions since my birth, and Anti-Robin always seemed to know when I was skulking about. If I'd been at all slower, he would have zapped me into a fly and let me drop twitching to the floor, I swear…

Oh, four weeks wiser now, I had no desire to raise a plain knife to my wings and risk losing my ability to float forever. Pish posh. The very instant my struggling eyes learned how to shape squiggles into words, I planned to hit the books and deduce the way to enchant a blade myself. That should work out smashingly. As Mother pulled me across the castle drawbridge that stretched over the moat, this time by my elbow rather than my ankle, I frankly told her as much.

"You do and I'll lock you away for a month," she retorted.

" _Ooh_ , I don't and you'll lock me away for a month. Wait a moment." I craned the area of my square body that passed as my neck in the right light. My ears twitched forward. My hand tightened around my ball. A small crowd consisting of several dozen Anti-Fairies had clustered along the edge of the sombre, black-leaved forest across the way. Though most of them dangled from the branches by their toes and chittered uncertainly with their neighbours, many more paced back and forth either on the ground or in the air. A clump of them knelt in the pebbles and ashes that littered the ground. Anti-Bryndin was among them. Aha, so that must be our destination. I wrinkled my nose. "Why didn't you just  _poof_  us out if it's so urgent?"

"The Castle has a Class 4  _poof_ -proof hex in place for everyone but the High Count and Countess themselves, you tiny  _twit_ ," she snarled. "I don't have the authority to override that. Nor do you have the magic even if you did have the authority, and I certainly don't see you offering to do me a good turn anytime soon anyhow."

I lifted the hand she wasn't holding. "Mum, please. I'm very aware of my fate as a dep _rrr_ ived and sickly child. I know all about the  _anti_ - _poof_ hex. Or the  _foop_  hex, as those in my litter have taken to calling it. I say these things only to toy around with you."

"You shouldn't use  _foop_  in place of  _anti-poof_. That's improper for a noble and will only earn you harsh looks and snide remarks."

"I happen to like the word  _foop_ very much. What, so I'm just supposed to just say 'I  _anti-poof_ ed up the whole lot of the things' every day of my life? Don't talk tosh now, woman."

She dropped my arm. I ducked, but still didn't avoid the swat of her hand on the back of my head. Mother sniffed at me without slowing her march. "You'd do far better in life if you spent less time thinking up wisecracks and more time doing what you're told."

"Such as cuddling up to a dead woman," I said flatly. I leaned away, but she snatched my wrist up again and gave it a yank. Somewhat crouching, of course, to reach my level.

"An almost-dead woman," she corrected. "Don't start going daffy. If she were dead, then she would have gone up in smoke without leaving a body behind.  _Remember?_ "

I yawned. The drawbridge changed to crushed gravel beneath my feet, then cinders and ashes. "As a matter of fact, no. Not a lot of proper learning has gone on in the bottom creche thus far. No offense, but it isn't as though you take much notice of me." I stared sullenly at my twisting wrist. My fingers wriggled. "Mum, I don't want to do this. I'm only one month old."

She glanced down. "Technically-"

"Don't 'technically' me, dear. Augustus already informed me of the custom of measuring an Anti-Fairy's age according to the Friday the 13th he was born along with the rest of his litter. However, I prefer to measure time from the moment my body and smoke united. I refer to myself as a late autumn child. Augustus said it was okay."

"Confound your goody-goody brother," she muttered.

" _Muuum_ ," I whined. We had gotten quite near the crowd by the trees, and eyes were turning in my direction. Whispers flew back and forth- "There he is", "Here they come", "Let him through". That sort of thing. My ears swivelled down. Abruptly, I stopped walking and dug in my heels. When Mother turned back, I wrapped both arms around her thick leg. "I don't want to do this. I don't know the first thing about crawling inside a pouch! You don't even let me nurse from yours. You make me suck from my bottle."

"No one pouchfeeds anymore. It's been decided that it isn't safe for members of the Unseelie Court, and so we've adjusted. Now get off."

I ground my mouseflesh ball against my hip. "So according to you, nursing isn't safe due to the risk of going smoky by association, but crawling into a dying damsel's pouch apparently is, because it's me. I see how it is."

"Get  _off_." She peeled me from her skin by grabbing the scruff of my neck. "I didn't want to have a little snot like you, but sometimes we all have to make sacrifices for the betterment of the colony."

On that note, she plopped me down between Anti-Bryndin and the fallen Anti-Joanie. He knelt near her head, holding her motionless hand in his own. "Julius," he said, looking over at me as though this were the first time we'd ever met. "Very glad for you to be here."

I wrapped my entire body around my mother's forearm and kicked in his direction. "No! Anti-Bryndin, don't make me! I don't want to do it!"

"Give it up, you little-"

"Anti-Florensa." Anti-Bryndin pulled me away from her with soft hands despite my squirming. I went on the ground again. His dark orange eyes turned down on me. Two fingers crept up to his scarf. "Julius, you are small. It has to be you. After pups get their box shapes, fitting inside pouches does not work well anymore. Only small sick pups might try and it's still okay."

"Don't make me do it! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"

Anti-Joanie convulsed. Fortunate for me, I suppose, considering that I sensed my mother's foot readying for a sharp kick at my back. When her sister jerked, she turned her attention away from me, and dropped down on Anti-Bryndin's other side. As for him, he continued to hold Anti-Joanie's wrist, but stroked my ear as I quivered and clenched my bangs.

"Please do what was asked, Julius. If you are fast, it will be okay. I will save you."

"What?" I tightened my grip on my hair with both fists. "You can't be serious. If she goes to smoke and I'm inside her, I- I'll-"

Anti-Bryndin pointed at Anti-Joanie's face. She lay very still, except for the occasional jerky twitches she made with her feet. One twisted and pawed constantly at her pouch, nimble white toes pushing the fur in the wrong direction. My mother had one hand over her mouth and the other pressed to her sister's cheek. "I will hold your foot when you go inside," he told me. "If she is going smoky, I will pull you safe. It will be very fast. That is the plan, even without her pup. Is this okay?"

"But-"

"Is this okay?" he asked. As he spoke, he took away my ball and instead placed a long white knife in my fidgeting hand. Well, it was long for  _me_ , anyway- so much so that it made me stagger. I blinked up at him.

"But I-"

"Julius." Anti-Bryndin fingered the bright yellow button on his scarf and pushed out a slightly pouting lower lip. "Please help us. Her pup must be safe. Is this okay?"

I glanced away, tightening my grip on the knife's handle. "Yes, High Count."

"Thank you. Please go now." On that note, he nudged me over to Anti-Joanie's pouch with his knee. I eyeballed it, chewing on my lower lip. Anti-Joanie kicked her leg again.

"Well?" Mother snapped, her claws caught in the whimpering damsel's hair. "The longer you delay, the riskier this rubbish gets."

My wings lifted with my shoulders. I forced them down again and focused my full attention on the thin vertical slit along Anti-Joanie's stomach. "Yes, thank you, I know."

Without another word, I pried her pouch open with my knife and crawled in. Anti-Bryndin wrapped his hand around my foot. Gentle, but steady and firm.

Everything became dark.

For being so deep, her pouch was tighter than I'd expected. My sharp cube body could hardly manoeuvre through it, even as small as I was. Mostly, I wriggled my way along by dragging myself with my elbows. Anti-Fairy pouches simply weren't made for nursing much from after birth, or at least if they had been long ago, Tarrow had allowed that trait to be nearly bred out of us over millions of years with the changing of the times. Anti-Joanie shifted around me, her muscles compressing and loosening with every squish of my corners in her flesh. A low gurgling sound echoed around my flattened ears.

There in the back of her pouch, cuddled practically against her spine, I found the pup. Smokeless. Technically not even alive, but automatically making suckling motions against her teat anyway. It wasn't very big, no. Rather, when I measured it, it was only the size of my hand, and sort of long and stringy like a bean. It hadn't even developed the layer of blubber that would become its safe square exoskeleton yet. Quite the pale shade of blue too- nearly white, as it were, like butter you might smear across a crumpet. The black scruff that would eventually form its crown had already sprouted from its head. Its hands were nubs with powerful claws, though the back legs left much to be desired for now. Keeping my movements slow, I wedged the knife against Anti-Joanie's teat and began to saw it off.

Every cut made my fingers shake. I blinked away my boiling tears, and they sizzled against my tunic when they hit. Her teat was tough and firm, and the knife wasn't moving particularly fast. Anti-Bryndin's fingers remained wrapped around my ankle. Promising, but… what if he wasn't fast enough to pull me out? What if he became distracted midway through my work? What if I accidentally slipped and my knife plunged through the pup's soft head? What if Anti-Joanie couldn't take the pain anymore and rolled over to flatten us both? True, the lack of other organs in this area of her midsection had created a deep cave that offered considerable security from jarring and jabbing, but she was already shifting and whining awfully. My ears could pick up on my mother's soothing words, but judging from the way she shifted, Anti-Joanie kept lifting her bare foot and clamping her long white toes around the bulge in her pouch that was me.

How much longer did she have left? Her pouch muscles were thick. What if she lost the strength to loosen them? What if I became stuck in here for the short remainder of my existence? What if this was all a clever trap? After all, she was Mother's sister. Perhaps they had brought their heads together and schemed a way to be rid of me for good, just to get back at me for being born so late in the season-

The knife plopped to the bottom of Anti-Joanie's pouch. I stared at it for half a second before I registered that I had finished cutting all the way through. The pup continued to suck at the severed teat for now, of course- its lips were fused on there, and would be until its official birth the first Friday the 13th of next year. I couldn't tell from its wrinkled form whether it was a damsel or a drake. Perhaps it hadn't figured that out itself.

"Anti-Bryndin?" I called, twitching at the quaver in my voice. "I got it."

"It is in your arms now?"

"Um. One moment." I stuck the blade of my knife between my fangs and clamped down hard. Then I picked up pup and teat with both hands. Neither were heavy. Once I figured that I could hold them, I gave my leg a wriggling kick. Anti-Bryndin tugged me backwards, Anti-Joanie's clenched muscles notwithstanding. My corners must have jabbed her, but apart from a low groan, she didn't protest.

Cold air touched my feet. Then my wings. Then my head. Within seconds, I was blinking at the sky again, sitting in the cinders and ashes and clutching the unborn pup to my chest.

It became the centre of attention at once. Everyone in the gathered crowd wanted to look at the rarity and coo over its colour and size. Anti-Bryndin had no such longings. He peeled both the pup and the teat from my arms after little more than a courtesy glance, and folded them together in the fluffy black towel. While he was thus occupied and the crowd pressed in around him, I positioned myself in front of my mother and crossed my arms.

"Well? Is there anything  _else_  I can assist you with while you have me out here? Come on now."

"No," she murmured without so much as twitching her ears my way. She stroked her sister's hair. "That will be all, Julius."

I tipped my crown to her and fought the urge to spit out my own fangs. "Then by all means, I wish you a very pleasant day."

Mother made a grab for a staff that wasn't there.

"Huuurts," Anti-Joanie moaned.

"Shh. There, there. I'm here. We saved it. Your pup survived. You can let go any time you're ready."

Anti-Bryndin nudged me with his foot. "Julius. The baby's mother will die now. It is a tiny one. I am going to care for it with my hands. First, we will meet. Find the great hall with me. This is time for educating pups about pup things. A very fast discussion. Go, please."

"Of course, Anti-Bryndin. You asked so politely, it would be horribly rude to refuse your invitation." I switched the knife for my ball again and scampered back across the drawbridge towards the Castle, with Anti-Bryndin floating slowly after me.

Two drakes were waiting for us at the Castle's inner doors. One was tall, wearing a red cloak around his shoulders that swept nearly to his ankles. Pink eyes. The smaller drake, long black hair falling in waves behind his neck, sprang up to pull open the right-hand door for us. Anti-Bryndin acknowledged this gesture with a nod.

"Caden, gather the youngest cohort from roosting upstairs. That is Loves, Fires, and Waters who are born. Do not worry about the other four of the zodiac who will go in the cohort, because they are not born. There are lessons for pups I will make in the great hall. Not the front camarilla dining room. Is this okay?"

Caden saluted with his free hand. "Roger that, cap'n."

He flew up the stairs, and Anti-Bryndin turned to the drake with the red cloak who had followed us inside the castle. "Anti-Buster, see Julius to the great hall. I will go to take care of the pup where there are no windows and no doors to open."

"Oh, is that his name? Anti-Buster? We always just call him-" I broke off when both Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Buster zeroed their gazes in on me. My eyes dropped to my bare white toes. I smoothed a fold down the front of my tunic and dribbled my ball against the floor. "Um. Never mind."

Anti-Buster bowed, Anti-Bryndin nodded farewell, and we parted ways. Cloak snapping at his heels, he led me along the entrance corridor, which was lined on the left side with carved cinderstone statues of famous historical figures. Tarrow's seven sons were first, of course, though out of respect, he was not depicted in any way. Not out here. Jay Rhoswen (Anti-Shylinda kneeling at his feet with her tufted tail exposed) followed them, and others, and then there were the last dozen High Counts and Countesses. The carvings of those who had preceded them must be in storage somewhere else in the Castle, I supposed. Every one of their children were present too, placed between the couple if they shared the child, or off to the side if some other parent had been involved with the birth.

The hall ended with an alcove. Set in that place of honour was the statue of an anti-swanee displaying sweeping horns and a scarf around his neck. An anti-goblin, evidenced by the small ears that ended in sharp tips, as well as the tiny circles that topped each point of her crown, held his hand. A circlet designed in a pattern of overlapping leaves rested between her ears. Letters made words on the base beneath their feet. I understood "Year", which suggested the words declared to those who actually could read exactly which year our High Count and Countess had been coronated.

No heir was present. Not yet. Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina were both young and pupless, but perhaps a royal prince would stumble into our lives any Friday the 13th. Which element of the zodiac would he fall beneath, I wondered?

Instead of turning right at the alcove to proceed deeper into the Castle, we turned left, beneath the staircase landing. Anti-Buster opened the glossy door of the great hall and waved me through. The automatic torches around the room flickered into blue life as I stepped in, though they immediately switched to purple when Anti-Buster followed me. Since I was still young enough to eat in the nursery room upstairs with the rest of my litter, and since most of my excursions to this general area of the Castle had ended with me sneaking around the kitchens, I hadn't spent considerable time in the great hall before. But as it turned out, one benefit to not skulking about with poorly-attempted sneakiness was that, for the first time, I actually had the chance to admire the active mural painted on the left-hand wall.

I had to lean my head back pretty far to see all of it, even though the image was wider than it was tall. Framed in the centre of everything was the immortal cosmic jellysweeper of fate, perhaps better known as Tarrow the Luck-Twister. His bell-shaped body was pale blue to match the Water Year, but his tentacles were Soil brown in honour of Twis since today was Tuesday. As I watched, the jelly pulsed with light to a certain point, then faded out again. Over and over. His tentacles drifted first to the left, then the right.

Above Tarrow, simplified representations of the Wise Ancients stood, sat, and sometimes paced along their allotted strip of wall. Caden had entertained those of us with  _canetis_  rings (or tied wings) with plenty of stories about how they squabbled at each other if those viewing the mural played favourites for too long.

The painting below the jellysweeper depicted the seven zodiac spirits, identical and basic in design apart from their colours, paired off with their respective partners- Saturn with his hands resting on Munn's shoulders, Sunnie embracing Twis, Winni cradling Thurmondo in his arms. They clustered in a loose semi-circle around two members from the Anti-Fairy and Fairy Refract ancestor species. Dayfry, blocky and purple, stood immediately before them to bar their way into the mesas and cliffs that cut like wrinkles across the painting of Plane 23.

Further along the mural was the story of Rhoswen and Anti-Shylinda, who of course had been taken as desperate partners in what became known as Rhoswen syndrome, and together caused the origination of the iris virus that gave we noble members of the Unseelie Court our vibrant eyes. Then Helena carrying the moon. Nearby, a lone Fairy stood beneath a pink tree with a springcase in hand. While I didn't remember her name, I vaguely remembered Augustus mentioning the tale of a young musician who had been plucked from the mortal cloudlands and brought reverently to a higher plane of existence because she amused the nature spirits. Darrell insisted such stories were all a farce and refused to have anything to do with the Zodii philosophy and traditions, which is why no one liked him, but Augustus had never lied to me before and I saw no reason why he would play games with me now on a matter like this.

Then there were others. Several dozens of different stories all displayed in brilliant colour, though the Wise Ancients were the only ones to really glow. Centred at the very bottom of the wall, nicely at my eye level, the Seven were depicted again. This time they were painted inside their different Temples, with Dayfry sitting calmly on the far-left end in a circular, hut-like building and Thurmondo weeping beneath an arch-shaped door on the far right. Each one was chained to the floor by loops of deep black paint. Saturn raged furiously, his painted figure throwing fiery orange sparks into the air whenever he rebounded off the walls, while Twis pulled against his bonds at an even, steady pace. Every time Winni jerked on his chains, Thurmondo fell to the ground. Only Munn appeared to be having a chipper day, every day. He hopped up and down and spun in circles, dancing to music only he could hear. He kept it up even when I bounced my ball against his Temple's roof.

I placed my hand inside Sunnie's square. He'd flung himself towards the ceiling as high as the chains on his wrists allowed him to reach, but when I touched the wall, he dropped back down and looked up at my fingers. As he was the representative for the Water year, I'd fast become familiar with most of the stories about him.

"I wouldn't touch their black chains, sir," Anti-Buster warned from his place by the doors. "They're painted on with inrita, which drains all Fairykind magic. Prolonged exposure would kill a Fairy. As we Anti-Fairies are comprised mainly of magic and smoke, it will instantly numb and blister your skin. And do be careful, sir. The nature spirits will perhaps bite your finger if you should taunt them. It's said that because the Blue Castle stands on sanctified vapour and this building is holy, all the murals within these walls are connected to what they depict. They will sense it and hold grudges should you choose to mock them."

"Frankly, I'm smart enough to figure that out for myself and I don't require your unskippable tutorials, Anti-Buster."

"Very good, sir."

I kept my hand where it was, even as Sunnie lost interest in me and returned to tugging at his chains. "What I'd like to know is, who's the hand who paints these things?"

"That particular mural was a gift from Mother Nature and Father Time, sir, so we might always honour those who leant their names to the days of the week."

I was just examining an image of the Grim Reaper on bended knee offering his tribute of grain to the Cycling Hen when Anti-Bryndin returned, wiping his hands down his coat. All the torches in the great hall switched to a yellow glow. I turned away from the paintings to track him with my eyes. He moved, his head and horns always bobbing, between the long, empty tables. At the end of the hall, a table with four chairs sat on a raised platform. He settled into his place in the second from the left, steepling his claws below his chin. Another mural was painted behind him, though between the dim light, my poor eyes, and the distance, I couldn't make it out in any great detail. Together, the three of us waited in silence for Caden to come downstairs with the pups born under the most recent cycle of the zodiac.

I bounced my ball against the nearer mural again. Anti-Buster cleared his throat and fixed me with a pointed stare.

"Up on my head table," Anti-Bryndin called as the pups at last trotted in, Caden on their heels. "I want to show you things. You can't see the things if you sit on the floor."

"Uh…" When I reached his end of the great hall, I had to tilt my head back. The white tablecloth appeared knitted of yarn in an intricate cobweb pattern, and the threads seemed liable to snap if I should test my weight on them. "I think we could perhaps use a boost."

The other pups peered at me over their shoulders, smirking and giggling amongst themselves as they rejoiced together in their untied wings. I looked away, my face burning, my ears longing for simple  _canetis_  rings to weigh down their tips. Well. All of them except Christine were still on the ground because their legs weren't strong enough to take off for direct flight. Until they got a bit of height to fall from, they were as grounded as I was. I had nothing to be ashamed of, did I?

Footfalls closed in immediately behind me. With a swish of cloth, Anti-Buster deposited me and three other Antis on the head table, then moved on to plucking up the other eight (Christine not included since, as an anti-brownie, she had simply flown up and landed in place herself,  _canetis_  rings notwithstanding). Once we were all in position, he walked around the table behind the chair on Anti-Bryndin's right and stood there, silent, with his arms folded behind his back. Anti-Buster also happened to be some close relation of Caden's, as I recalled; Caden bid both he and Anti-Bryndin a polite good-bye and zipped back outside for an update on the situation with Anti-Joanie.

"You're thanked," Anti-Bryndin told Anti-Buster on our behalf. I clutched my ball to my neck and tucked myself between Samuel and Electro. They glanced at me, rustling their wings, and we all looked back to the head of the table. Anti-Bryndin let his gaze wander over us, and then folded his arms. His ears twitched behind his horns.

"Anti-Joanie will die in a few minutes today."

No one had much of a response to that. Either everyone present already knew she was on her way to smoke, or no one knew quite what to say about it. Or, they had a comment to make, but they were too anxious to speak up in front of their peers. I found myself borderline in that last group.

"Her pup was removed from her," Anti-Bryndin went on. "I made contact with the Anti-Fairy Council. They learned things for me. His counterpart is a drake, so he is a drake. He is safe, and will grow up. I will raise him in my hands. His name is to be Ashley Anti-Everwish, says his mother. This is his father's family name, instead of her Anti-Lunifly, because she is dying. She does want his father to know him if they will ever meet. So, with much talk of pups, I thought it is good to tell pups like you how pups have life brought to be in them."

Ashley. That tiny, bean-like, suckling thing I'd dragged from Aunt Anti-Joanie's pouch was Ashley. Augustus had mentioned how there would be no more Friday the 13ths this year. As such, once he finished developing, Ashley would be born in a Sky litter instead of a Water one. His mum was dead and no one, not even my mother, knew much about his father apart from knowing that he didn't live with us in the Castle. Poor bloke. As his older cousin, I would have to keep an eye out for him. Perhaps Augustus would help me out with that.

Anti-Bryndin raised a finger on each hand. "There are two parts of pups. There are bodies, and then smoke. Damsels make smoke inside of them. Drakes carry bodies of pups in the pouch on their fronts, on that part of the body where your eaten food goes. These are dads. But, dads only hold pups in pouches for thirteen days. Then, mums and dads come together. Their pouches touch. Bodies of pups are put inside a mum's pouch instead. It is a very small body, and it fits inside. There are more things than this, but this is only what you should know as pups. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count," we chorused. He nodded. His horns glimmered in the light of the torches behind him.

"Dad leaves later past when he gives the pup to mum, maybe. This happens many times. Mum and Dad only sometimes stay together with a pup. There are reasons you will learn when you grow. Some of you do not know you have a dad. He left." Anti-Bryndin had kept his forefingers apart throughout this entire explanation. Now, he brought them together in front of his face. "In the Blue Castle, we can stop some leaving. This is a thing called 'marriage'. Marriage is a thing that uses rings. These rings are rested on the middle finger of your right hand, and they are colours of our lucky zodiac. When Anti-Fairies have marriage, they stay together. That is the rule of the Blue Castle. Is this okay?"

We glanced at each other. "Yes, High Count."

Anti-Bryndin took off his first ring, which was black with a small green rock attached to it, and placed it on the table so we could examine it as we pleased. He had Anti-Buster do the same, though Anti-Buster's ring was entirely purple, and wasn't made of leather. "Making marriage starts with young pups," he said. "A litter is all Anti-Fairies born on the same Friday the 13th. Pups are always born on that day. This is our special day. But, you are of the same cohort, which is different from the litter. A cohort is like a year, but as seven." He made a circle motion with his claw. "It has pups of Love, and also pups of Leaves."

I raised my hand. "Um. So to clarify, the years that aren't Love or Leaves are still in the cohort too, yes?"

Anti-Bryndin looked at me for a puzzled second. The others around me began to snicker.

"Never mind," I mumbled, lowering my eyes. "I get it."

"The cohort is one cycle of the zodiac. It goes, Love is purple, Fire is orange, Water is light blue, Sky is dark blue and is weird for not being red but that is how the things go, Soil is brown, Breath is yellow, and Leaves is green. Those are in the cohort together. The cohort is the people in the zodiac cycle, which is all of the people, even Fairies, who are in those years. We can talk about those later. The new Love year begins a new cycle with a new cohort. Is this okay?"

"Oh. Yes, High Count. Th-thank you."

He nodded, sliding his ring onto his middle finger again. "Dads are not always in marriage to mums. We never try to tell you your birth dads. Sometimes that is hard to remember. Instead, we make with marriage. Anti-Fairies in marriage share pups. They take care of pups together even if those are not their pups. Pups of married Anti-Fairies are called brothers and sisters. They are a family, which is easy. This is science and culture. Is this okay?"

We all agreed.

"Do you like Anti-Fairies in marriage?"

We agreed again.

"I said making with marriage begins with pups. This is how. It is a Water year today. Your cohort is not finished. You still need Sky, Soil, Breath, and Leaves. The Leaves year will end, and in the spring of Love, on Naming Day evening, you will meet your marriage partners."

Electro put up his hand, but didn't wait for Anti-Bryndin to acknowledge him. "So, our partners… They are decided already? Surely then you can share with us now?"

I glanced at him sharply, but Anti-Bryndin didn't seem annoyed with his interruption. He shook his head. "You will be in the gardens. Everyone has to pick a ring from the box that will come around. The ring is wrapped so you cannot see its colour until all pups open their packet at the same time. Anti-Elina and I are on the rear balcony with our master candles, and she will tell you when. Anti-Buster, do you have the example?"

Anti-Buster reached into the correct pocket of his vest and drew out a black handkerchief, bundled up and tied shut with a braided white cord. He demonstrated how to open it for us to reveal a yellow ring inside. Anti-Bryndin took it and tapped it against the edge of the table.

"You will get a ring of a zodiac colour. Then, you will search the gardens and find an Anti-Fairy of that zodiac. This Anti-Fairy you find who is the right zodiac and has a ring colour to match your zodiac too, they are your partner. This is decided by fate. It is Tarrow's influence over us, as he twists coincidence into destiny. You will trade your rings to each other and be together betrothed, which is marriage for pups. There will be real marriage, which we will talk of when you have grown. Is this okay?"

A few voices piped up that it was, but Samuel slowly put his hand up in the air. When Anti-Bryndin looked at him, he said, "What if the first Anti-Fairy I find with my matching ring is a drake like me instead of a damsel?"

"That is fated. Drakes can be in marriage to drakes. Damsels can be in marriage to damsels. Drakes and damsels can be in marriage to each other. That does not matter. Even two Anti-Fairies who are brothers or sisters can be in marriage. Fairy marriages have kisses, but Anti-Fairy marriages do not need to have kisses; these are destined partners who will care for you as a true friend, and you will raise your pups together. Only the zodiac matters. It is fated. You do not say no against fate."

"Oh."

"Is this okay?"

This time, I raised my hand again.

"Speak, Julius."

"Can only two Anti-Fairies be in a marriage together?"

Anti-Bryndin paused. He glanced at Anti-Buster, then at me again. "For when there is betrothal of pups, yes. We can talk more another day."

"All right. So then, it stands to reason there must be an even number of pups for everyone to become betrothed as you've said. What, then, happens if there should be an odd number of us come the Love year? Or, say you cannot find the match to your ring? What if there are no matches of your ring left due to all the other potential combinations taking precedent?" What if you dropped your ring in the garden pond and had to scramble to look for it? What if the package you picked up accidentally had two rings inside it, or none at all? What if someone outright stole your ring? What if your potential partner refused you in favour of waiting for a better champion? What if-

"Then that is fated. You will not be betrothed then. If you want to be in marriage, you will have to find an Anti-Fairy who is not in marriage somewhere else when you grow up, maybe outside of the Castle."

I stared at him, white spots flickering at the edge of my vision. I swallowed. "Is this perchance why my b _rrr_ other doesn't wear a betrothal ring on his hand?"

"Augustus? Yes. He was very slow and let all others in the Love year rush ahead of him. There was no one to match with him when there were none left." Anti-Bryndin flicked up his ears. I didn't hear whatever he heard, but he and Anti-Buster both turned towards the window that led outside. He hummed in the back of his throat. "Anti-Joanie. She is very close to smoke. I will finish fast. So, that is the marriage of the Anti-Fairies. We believe in luck and we trust in fate. We do not believe in random or coincidence. There is only destiny and the knots of the yarn. We trust in Tarrow who saw our future and placed us to be born at this time. Everything is meaning. There are never accident paths crossed or wrong numbers to crystal ball or scry bowl messages. It is fated you know these people, or visit these places, or do these things. This is true even if you do not know why. Maybe you will never know, but it is still fate. These are our beliefs. This is who we are. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count."

Anti-Bryndin glanced back at me. "Some of you do not have your parents in marriage. Maybe your dad and mum went to smoke. Maybe it's complicated. If you do not know your parents, then I am like your dad." Anti-Bryndin held his upturned palm in Anti-Buster's direction. "I become busy doing some things. If you have needs of talking to a drake who is in charge of helpfulness, talk to Anti-Buster. He will be like the other dad of you. Anti-Buster? Is this okay?"

He bowed, arms still behind his back. The red cloak fluttered as far forward as his wings and shoulders allowed. Its black, jellysweeper-shaped clasp glinted in the firelight. "As you wish, sir."

Anti-Bryndin drummed his claws against the table and looked at all of us seriously. "I like you pups, but sometimes I do not have time for you. I do busy things for all the Anti-Fairies in Anti-Fairy World, and this is all the Anti-Fairies in Hy-Brasil."

"All of them?" Harriet asked, folding back her ears. "Oh, dearie me. Is that a lot?"

Electro jabbed her with his elbow. "That is all of the Anti-Fairies who exist."

"Yes. It is many Anti-Fairies. This is because I am High Count. So, as you grow, do not talk to me sometimes, due to the part when I will be busy. Always talk to Anti-Buster first. He is called the First General like I am High Count, and he will help you. You will know his redness. He is a very good friend of me."

Anti-Buster stared at him, unblinking, as the torches crackled in the background.

"My favourite of all friends," Anti-Bryndin emphasized, reaching for his hand. Anti-Buster did not pull away, though he didn't make a gesture forward either. He was simply a blank-faced man, patient and calm as a mountain. So, with a shrug, Anti-Bryndin turned his focus back on us. "We are your dads if you have no dads. If you do have dads, then we are your extra dads. You can talk to us. But, mostly talk to Anti-Buster. I do many things, and he does less, but also others. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count."

"Then you are off." Anti-Bryndin waved to signal our dismissal before vanishing with a  _foop_ and a puff of smoke. Clearly, the Class 4  _poof_ -proof hex did not apply to him when he didn't want it to. Anti-Buster helped us hop to the floor one by one. As the rest of my cohort raced across the great hall and into the statue corridor again, laughing and babbling, I myself made it halfway to the propped-open doors… before I paused, thought fast, and hurried all the way back to Anti-Buster's side.

"Um." I switched my mouseflesh ball to my right hand and tugged on one of the larger folds of his cloak. "Anti-Buster?"

His pink eyes flicked down to me. "May I assist you, sir?"

"Yes, I… I believe so. You see, I'm afraid I must count myself among those who don't know their own father. But you're in a sense my 'dad' now, if my understanding is correct?"

"That is indeed correct, sir."

"Then, will you play Throw with me?"

Anti-Buster straightened. "I will do my utmost to participate to your liking, sir."

So, I took a few paces back and threw the ball. Anti-Buster made no effort to catch it. It rebounded off his shoulder and crashed away somewhere in the shadows on our left.

"Excellent shot, sir."

"Oh, never mind." I retrieved my ball and went off to find Augustus with a tut of my tongue and a shake of my tied wings. Surrogate father or not, I had the dreadful feeling that such a dull, emotionless man and I would never find a way to truly get along.


	3. Fun With Yarn

_In which the Spring of the Feathered Pillow occurs,_ _and Julius can hardly be described as the fireball at the party_

* * *

I grew up in such a world, with my mother quick to smack the back of my head when she thought I stepped out of line, only for one of the camarilla members - or Anti-Bryndin himself - to intervene when they caught her doing it too often. There were twelve members on the camarilla court. Fifteen officially, sort of, but that was if Anti-Bryndin, Anti-Elina, and Anti-Buster were included. Each of the seven zodiac elements was represented, with both the High Count and Countess having chosen six Anti-Fairies with zodiacs who did not match their own.

Anti-Bryndin was of course a Breath, and the enormous button on his black scarf was yellow because of it. Anti-Elina wore a green circlet between her ears to symbolize the Leaves Year. Anti-Buster? Who knew.

Not me. On days when we pups were allowed out in the gardens to wander, I sometimes sat on Sunnie's bridge with my bare feet dangling over the dark creek, my fists gripping the iron rail. There I would pass hours in silence, gazing over the sea of black leaves and bioluminescent lizards, flowers, rodents, and pollinating insects glowing with every colour of the Fairy zodiac and not a colour more. In the absolute centre of the garden (I'd been told, hadn't believed, and measured it with Augustus and Caden one day to be sure) lay a fascinating testament of unique Anti-Fairy architecture (a "gazebo") built of black wood and hung with paper lanterns that often glowed as red as the sky. As red as Anti-Buster's cloak. But that was no element of the zodiac I knew. If Fire was blazing orange and Sky was inexplicably so navy blue it was nearly black, then what could deep red possibly be?

We pups were strictly forbidden to touch that strange gazebo. Forbidden to even approach it. I'd hopped across the stones in the pond anyway and gone all the way up the steps- but only once, when I was younger and more daring. Regret welled in my throat before I'd even pressed my hand against the doorframe and stared, eyes wide, across the bare, dark floor. Just being that close had frozen my teeth down to the roots.

I was a headstrong child, yes, but not a stupid one. I'd dropped back into the pond immediately, soaking myself to the pits of my wings, and splashed back to hunker underneath Sunnie's bridge with the glowing eels and salamanders. Even the fat fish never strayed near that central marker in the garden where the seven stark divisions melded into one, no matter how we pups tempted them with bread and kitnut shells. Perhaps best to error on the side of obedience and listen to the camarilla on this one.

Over the next four years, as new pups came in and I left the nursery behind, I became familiar with each member who did sit upon the camarilla court. While anywhere between two and four hundred Anti-Fairies, servants and pups included, resided within the Blue Castle colony at any one time, because of my long nose and sharp green eyes, the camarilla themselves began to recognize me too. And best of all, my mother did not hold a seat anywhere among them, she hardly standing in Anti-Elina's favour given Mum's relationship with Anti-Elina's husband and all.

So, the camarilla became aware of me, and if ever they noticed a new scratch or bruise upon my tiny body, they were quick to confront Anti-Florensa about it. I relished every punishment she undertook, so much so that I even took to faking a limp in my foot every now and then. She deserved a little scolding from time to time.

Thus, Mother and I coexisted to some degree throughout my youth. Augustus was constantly flitting off to attend to this or that self-inflicted duty (Gathering dirty scraps of colourful Tarrow outfits and distributing them to the needy in bulk one week, assisting Anti-Robin and the other servants in the kitchens to prepare plenty of food to feed the hungry the next, so on, so forth), but when he was around, he rarely allowed me to stray from his watchful gaze. Mother never struck me with her bo staff when he was there to step between us instead.

… Often, it seemed to me that she became much more prone to physically striking out when he was around. Perhaps because Augustus was much older than I, the camarilla were more reluctant to intervene when it was he who shuffled along the halls behind me, clutching a twisted arm against his chest. Yes, he was a colour-eye (or an "iris") like myself, but it certainly didn't give him a sturdy backbone.

He didn't bring the matter of his frequent injuries to the camarilla's attention. And after the way Mum flew off the handle at both of us when I spoke to Anti-Elina on his behalf… I never attempted to take the matter into my own hands again. Augustus, usually wincing, assured me it was better that way. Better that she hit him than she take her fury out on us both. I didn't disagree.

I gravitated to the roosting room by the end of my first Sky year. Somewhere on the opposite side of the Barrier, Cosmo shed his round exoskeleton, so in turn, I shed my square one. The last of my zodiac to do so, I remained small and darkly-furred. With my shedding came freedom of mobility. True, my wings were still bound, and would be until my cohort reached its 50th year and we had our  _canetis_. But with longer legs, I could run instead of waddle. I'd grown out of soiling diapers, thank Tarrow, and a new wardrobe of clothes was suddenly opened unto me. Of course, many of them were too big, but to have loose-fitting tunics which flowed down to my knees - I could see my knees! - instead of conforming so tight and stiff to my awkward square body. Oh, what a lark!

Yet in a way, my new form also came with a bill to be paid. The first was mainly a small one, or so everyone kept telling me. It came on slowly, with pain down my back. I waved it off, but soon enough, it became obvious what was happening, and I could deny it no longer.

I grew a tail. It was a long, black, naked tail which sprouted from the puffy, rabbit-like tuft on my rear end. That wouldn't have been a cause for concern, except…

"Why don't any of my friends have tails like me?"

"The long tail is all part of being  _Faeumbra fae_ ," Mother assured me, stroking my cheek with the pad of her thumb as I whimpered in her lap. I clutched my tail in front of me with both hands. "All Anti-Fairies have small tufted tails, but you belong to the common anti-fairy subspecies. The anti-fairy patron is the Elrulian free-tailed bat. You have the same round ears, the same narrow wings and pointed wingtips, and their white toes; it only makes sense that you would have their tail. You wouldn't be much of a free-tail without one, luv. Now put it away, Julius. To show any part of your tail is an enormous sign of indecency."

"But what do I do with it? It's so long."

"You'll have to keep it tucked in your trousers like I showed you."

"But it hurts when it's crumpled…"

She turned my chin up so I had to look her in the eye, or at least try to, though my lids were blinking rapidly. "Your tail is a private part of you, Julius. Don't let the others see you have it. Don't discuss it. They shouldn't even know. You need to keep it hidden. Don't make me punish you. I really don't like punishing."

So, I kept my tail stuffed away in my pants. When other Anti-Fairies were around, that is.

Mother said my tail and toes were traits that Tarrow had allowed common anti-fairies alone to evolve, and that crossbred children did not inherit them. That meant they were passed down from my father instead of her, despite the fact that she had them too. Even Ashley was a crossbreed, carrying his mother's six-pointed anti-fairy crown, but the more heavyset body, huge feet, and small ears of an anti-barbegazi. Not to mention the fact that while the leathery skin of his wings was black, the forearms of his wings were crispy gold in colour.

I waited for another common anti-fairy to be born in the Castle so I might have someone to confide in about the discomfort of stuffing my tail away, the freedom of letting it curl out from beneath my tunic in private, the shame I felt in doing so. Oh, how I longed for someone! But in the Soil year, when I was two years old, a decree went out that ordered all fairy drakes to have no more pups (or "nymphs" as they were called) until further notice. For weeks afterward, I caught whispers that always died guiltily away when those speaking realized I was there. No one would explain all the details to me. No one would even look me in the eyes when the subject came up. I heard something about trying to halt the spread of a harmful mutation in the fairy genepool, something about hospital visits, something about some kind of tube being sealed in the process, though part of it was above my comprehension.

Of course, since Anti-Fairies were never born without their Fairy counterpart born first, this also meant an end to the anti-fairy race "until further notice". As far as the Blue Castle was concerned, I was the youngest of my kind. "Until further notice", I was incapable of ever fathering my own pups. I'd never thought much on the subject of parenthood before. But suddenly, being told what I couldn't have made me want it with furious passion. My parents hadn't been married, so my own sire had evidently performed his duty twice and hadn't stuck around to see the results. I didn't know so much as a name, and considering the way I'd heard Mother spit at Augustus that he was "So much like his father!" on days when he was being particularly goody-goody, I didn't dare breach the subject with her.

My mother was Anti-Bryndin's third wife, after Anti-Elina and Anti-Zoe (the latter of whom I heard many a story of, but never saw). So, Anti-Bryndin became something of a father to me. Or Anti-Buster did when he wasn't around, though he was hardly up to the task of meeting my emotional needs.

Augustus seemed to sense news of this no fairy babies business before news of the law even reached our ears, because he had a sudden meltdown. He locked himself in one of the non-perishable food storerooms and wouldn't come out for what seemed to be months, no matter how much I begged him to. There he would sob alone, neglecting even his beloved service projects, not turning outward to anyone, and of course not even having a betrothed to be concerned for him. It really was no surprise that I lost interest in the majority of my peers - even Augustus - and took to following members of the camarilla about on their work instead, as far as they and my tied wings were permitting. I liked adventurous Caden and I liked serious Ashley, and that was mostly it.

Even excluding the matter of my tail, sometimes the price for my new body seemed a steep one. It was suddenly cold, to wander through life without that comforting layer of fat which had kept me secure back when I was young. No longer bristling with pointy corners, and lacking my "blubber," I would need to turn to an act known as "bundling" when I rested. True, we Anti-Fairies were creatures built to withstand cold temperatures, and with very few exceptions it was impossible for us to die so long as our hosting counterpart still lived, but even we had our limits for health reasons. In order to keep our body temperature up, we all slept (or even rested while awake) in very close proximity to other Anti-Fairies of our ranking. I speculated that our tradition of betrothing pups young and presenting them with a life partner to snuggle up to may have some origins in satisfying this sort of physical need. We were a touchy-feely lot by nature.

I also became aware that Anti-Bryndin had not been lying those times he referred to me as sickly and cold. It began with innocent experimentation, as these things always do, with touching each other and ourselves. But before long, whispers had spread among those of us in the bottom creche: Anti-Fairies with scales and fur in lighter tones of blue would warm you up quite well when the nights were cold, which they always were since the temperature in Hy-Brasil varied little with the seasons. Anti-Fairies with darker fur were colder and made much less desirable sleeping partners. Automatic second choices. For shame.

Additionally, now that I was no longer "mostly head," my head and body were of course distinctly separate. My head developed the ability to open from the top backwards as though it had a hinge. I learned quickly that up in my forehead chamber, I had a mass which we called my core. Even when I stood in front of mirrors and cracked open my dome, I couldn't really see it, but Augustus assured me it was in there, deep down beyond the stringy red forehead material, like a small white ball.

This was the life-sustaining organ of my body, as it were, where I drew power directly from Cosmo Prime, who in turn drank from the energy field itself. Something about metaphysical straws which were referred to as "magic breathing lines" … I didn't really look into it. Only Seelie Courters could see them with their special power called "field sight" that kicked into gear when their eyes rolled in the backs of their heads and began to glow much brighter than normal. Fairy biology didn't really interest me.

What did concern me was the nature of being an Anti-Fairy. Both Fairies and Anti-Fairies were built with their cores in their large heads. There were multiple organs located in there, I learned, to allow the pouches on the midsections of our small bodies to open directly into our bodies like a cave; heavy pups clinging to our fronts would overbalance us, for even without our helium gaskets activated, we were small and weighed little. No, our pups nested deep within. I was young and my pouch not much developed, but there was plenty of room there that I could wedge my entire closed fist inside, then open it and wiggle my fingers. As a drake, I did not have teats in there like Anti-Fairy damsels and Fairy drakes did, which made it a lovely place to stuff small objects that I hoped to sneak past Mother's notice without having to stick them in my mouth.

Point being, the core was located in the head, and this was the organ with which we drew magic from the "pools" we shared with our counterparts; or, in layman's terms, our counterpart drank magic directly from the energy field through the "straws" that were their magic lines, and this magic was drawn through their core and filtered by the time our own cores drew it out of them… normally with very little backwash.

Exactly how it worked any further than that, I never particularly questioned in any great detail. Fairy biology was not inherently to my interests, especially with my firm adherence to the Zodii philosophy, whereas most characters you meet in the streets would draw upon the nonsensical teachings of the Daoism religion and their belief in the literal physical splitting apart of our Aos Sí ancestors in order to explain the connection between counterparts and the core. Suffice to say, Cosmo was doing a very excellent job of breathing over there on the other side of the Barrier, and the nature of the core was the reason we Anti-Fairies could not die so long as our hosting counterpart lived. However, I did not bother to deconstruct the reasons why. I was finally starting to read, and I had bigger dreams involving enchanted knives and wing bindings to captivate my mind.

Fairy magic was warm, and because warm magic rises, Mother explained to me that the magic running through a Fairy's "internal magic lines" (I prefer the Anti-Fairy term "veins") gathered mainly in the upper area of their bodies, allowing it to pool around the core in his head. For we Anti-Fairies, it was different. Because Anti-Fairy magic was a cold thing, it gradually descended towards our feet the longer we remained upright, and at times left us dizzy to the point of exhaustion. It hadn't been a problem while I was very small and square, but in my new body, I'd attempted to push my limits- only to pass out every time I remained upright too long, and wake again with Augustus tending to me in the nursery.

The logical solution to the issue of cold magic sinking was to hang upside-down if at all practical. This act was called roosting, and evidently, this problem had existed since days long in the past. Our ancestor species had evolved strong toes which allowed them to cling to branches or crevices in rocky walls. The same week I finally shed my old skin, Anti-Bryndin drew me out of the nursery (bustling with two small litters of Sky Year Anti-Fairies who had been born at the Castle) and walked me along the upper halls to the roosting room.

Of course I'd visited it a time or two when seeking out my Water friends who had moved on without me, but mostly, I didn't. Due to my delayed birth, the other Waters had all grouped off to form friends before I'd come along. While they were rarely unkind to me directly, they didn't make an effort to include me in their games. None of the jars I'd broken at Anti-Venus's tower had contained smoke for Blue Castle pups, so I was the youngest of the lot. The other Waters migrated to the roosting room almost as one, and I stayed behind to befriend Ashley and a few of the other Sky year children.

Besides, Electro spent a great deal of time in the roosting room, and I thought him biting and mean. Clever, resourceful, and strong, and his fierce loyalty to the zodiac and Zodii traditions combined with his straightforward brains ensured I'd trust his judgements with my life, but his ever-growing sarcasm and sneering gaze did not mesh well with my shy feelings. Oh, how I hoped I wouldn't find a Fire ring in my handkerchief when the day of our cohort's Tarrow betrothal came. I didn't have many options were that the case.

"I can't fly," I protested when Anti-Bryndin nudged me with his leg into the roosting room for young juveniles. The first thing I noticed was the spongy red carpet that engulfed my claws, although much of it was covered by sheets of translucent plastic. It was also loud- that was the second thing I became aware of. Voices squeaked above my head and wings rustled like flapping rolls of parchment caught in an Earthside wind. Words were lost. Chatters flew back and forth until only those actually invested in each individual conversation could keep them straight. Sometimes from down the halls you could hear them getting riled up like this too, but I found the clash of too many high-pitched squeals annoying and preferred to engage in conversations with deeper-voiced adults. The room was tall and the stone walls, prone to casting echoes, didn't help cut down on noise. I pressed down my ears with a grimace.

To the left of the door was another large mural, this one depicting Thurmondo seated between the roots of a grey milbark tree, its long tendrils drifting in the nearby creek, which lapped at his uncovered toes. Apart from the red dots that symbolized his eyes, he was faceless and painted all in a single tint of green. Wrapped from the shoulders down in a blanket of overlapping autumn leaves, he shivered against the grey slush and falling snowflakes. Yellow Winni crouched in the branches overhead. Although the mural was as active as the one in the great hall, with a faint painted breeze stirring the milbark vines, fish occasionally swimming down or stones shifting in the water, Winni seemed content to remain up there forever, blinking, while Thurmondo hunched his shoulders and battled the chill alone.

It must have been the first day of spring: Naming Day. Thurmondo had lost his memories as winter faded, and Winni had arrived to wait patiently for the right moment to make a move on him and incite the cycle of progressing seasons all over again.

On the right side of the door sat the most important feature of the chamber. This roosting room's array was a great pink tree with dozens of twisting branches sprouted from a bit of imported white vapor set in a circle in the floor. A chesberry. It stretched all the way towards the ceiling, and Anti-Fairies clustered in rows among just about every branch, clinging by their toes alone, although a handful of them sprawled on top of the branches on their stomachs with heads propped against their fists as they gabbed to those who dangled below them. When Anti-Bryndin nudged me forward again, I added, "My wings are tied."

"I will carry you." Anti-Bryndin bent over me with his mouth open. I half thought he was going to bite off my head, but instead, he fastened his teeth in the thin scruff on the back of my neck. His teeth scratched against my scales, but he found a hold. "Oh," I said as he hoisted me into the air.

Generally speaking, most Anti-Fairies did not have the combined leg and wing strength to take flight directly from the ground. Anti-brownies could do it, as could anti-wisps, but that ability was mostly limited to their individual subspecies. Anti-Bryndin had been walking the Castle corridors with me and, grounded, he chose to scale the wire mesh clinging against the walls until he encountered a branch that reached us. From there, he crawled along the array until he found the spot where he wanted to lower me.

Augustus was working late down in the kitchens, so Anti-Bryndin placed me instead beside Angus and Teresa, two of my fellow Waters. They broke off from talking and craned their necks. They clung to a thin, twig-like offshoot of one of the chesberry's main limbs. Perfect for small pup feet to wrap around. Anti-Bryndin waited until I had my toes curled forward and firmly latched into place before he let go of my scruff.

"You are holding?" he asked, keeping one hand beneath my head.

"I…" I blinked at him, shifting my feet and rustling my wings around me. What was I supposed to do with those? Hug myself with them? And what about my arms? My scruffy hair felt unusual, dangling into empty space. It dawned on me why I had been dressed in a single piece of stretchy black cloth from neck to tail that clung tightly to my ankles for pyjamas. I said, "This is so high. I've never been upside-down before."

"You are okay. I will catch you if you fall."

I leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, even though he was still up there above me. "Not forever, though?"

Anti-Bryndin smiled. "Not forever, Julius. But I am creche father. It is my job. I will watch the creche tonight. You have one night to learn how to hold steady and roost. I do not mean to watch tomorrow."

"I understand."

"Your toes will lock on tight. This is because you are heavy. There is a part inside your head, the helium gasket, which helps you float, but this is only when you beat your wings. That is why we can fly down, and walk, and be weighed on scales. When your wings don't flap, they do not use energy. You are heavier not flapping than when you do flap. Being heavy makes it hard for Anti-Fairies to get from the ground to sky when they are not flying, but it has your toes lock on when at roost. They will only open if you want to let go. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count."

Anti-Bryndin flicked his ears. With one hand, he adjusted the way I folded my wings so they covered my shoulders, rather than wrapping my lower body and leaving my arms exposed. "Close your wings against your neck. You need to be warm. Stay by Angus and Teresa. Don't get sick. You are dark and cold."

I nodded my agreement and, after he'd dropped from the branch and flapped off to a nearby perch he liked a little better, allowed my attention to wander around the room. Perhaps as many as two hundred and fifty Anti-Fairies roosted in here. A few of them were clearly born into the Castle as nobility like I was, as evidenced by their brightly-coloured eyes. More likely than not, the Antis whose eyes were red were servants, or the children of servants, who merely lived at the Castle by association with their job. Cooks, cleaners, political assistants to the High Count and Countess and the like. Of course, very few of them were asleep yet, and for those who waved their hands when they chatted, their betrothal rings glinted in a bright collection of colours.

Oh. Yes, some of these Anti-Fairies had been born in the neighbouring towns and colonies, but had been invited to the Castle to participate in Tarrow betrothals, and had then been adopted into our ranks to grow up together with partners who already lived here.

Beneath my wings, I massaged my bare fingers. Someday, I would be counted among they who bore those shiny rings.

My day came soon enough.

It was Naming Day, of course. Mother Nature had christened it the Spring of the Feathered Pillow. We gathered in the front hall, up and down the stairs. In total there were twenty-one of us, but we were just the Castleborns. Other Anti-Fairies clustered outside the rear gate that led into the gardens. Soon enough, we would see them. As I sat on the bottom step of the staircase beside Ashley, hugging my knees to my chest and trying not to crush my tail, even my usually-serious mouth twitched up into a smile. Tonight, I would know my lifelong partner. I would be betrothed.

Unless I messed up.

Anti-Buster checked each of us over as one by one, we shifted from the stairs and started along the statue-lined hallway that led away from the front doors and the camarilla's front dining room. Seven scrolls floated in the air around him. He would confirm each name, and the scrolls would rustle and scan themselves until one of them found the name upon itself, and butted his cheek. At that, Anti-Bryndin would twirl his wand and tap the floating crown of the Anti-Fairy in question, which then switched from black to the appropriate zodiac colour with a  _foop_. "It's only temporary, children," he informed us when we whined and touched them. "The charm only lasts three hours. Your crowns will all return to normal once the ceremony is complete."

Over on right-hand wall, a passageway door creaked open. My ears flicked up. The door swung lightly and sounded as though it were made of thin wood, although on this side, it was decorated to blend seamlessly into the cinderstone of the walls. One of the servant passages; I myself found little use for them. "Psst," whisper-called a familiar shaking tone from inside.

Augustus? I glanced at Anti-Buster, who sighed to inform me that I was wasting everybody's time, even though he still had nine Anti-Fairies to get to besides me. Augustus motioned for me again with his hand. I slipped from the stairs and hurried over to him.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice soft like his. I glanced back over my shoulder. "We're calling attention to ourselves and causing problems."

"S-sorry." Augustus once more beckoned me closer, this time urging me to step all the way inside the passage with him. I didn't, and he crouched down, the purple flower in his lapel brushing his chin. "I w-wanted to catch you before the ceremony starts. How do you feel?"

I hopped from one foot to the other and nodded. "Breathless. But I'm ready. I've waited for this moment ever since I was one month old. Here I am, just over four years later. My time has come."

He nodded. "D-don't be n-nervous. Just t-trust in fate. E-everything will w-work out in the end. And if y-you don't find a m-match tonight, th-that's okay. It j-just means you'll f-find a really g-good one when you're older. P-patience is a virtue, and you'll be r-rewarded."

I wasn't quite as sure about that, seeing as I saw no value in missing out on over 150,000 years of spending time with your partner only to find some other random poor, unpractised sort when you were older, but I said nothing.

"I th-thought it would h-help you if you t-t-turned your t-tunic inside out."

"I like my tunic just the way it is," I protested as Augustus, once more, motioned for me to step inside the servant passage with him. It was dark in there, anyway, with only one torch that I could see a decent distance along the wall. Behind Augustus, perhaps beyond another passageway door, I could hear the clicking of cooking utensils and the chitter of many Anti-Fairy voices preparing for the festivities tonight. Whatever meat they were cooking up blossomed in my nostrils and threatened to make me drool acid on my shirt.

"J-just do it." Augustus didn't need to loosen the buckle on my tunic much in order to slide it up and over my head. I squawked, taken aback but at least aware enough to be grateful he'd pulled me behind the edge of the passage so the others by the stairs couldn't see me.

"I say," I sputtered when he flipped the tunic and pulled it down over me again. "What in the name of smoke was that for?"

Augustus smiled as he adjusted the fabric around my wings. "F-for good karma. L-love is a t-tangible embodiment of f-fate that's m-meant to t-t-twist in different w-ways for e-each and e-every individual. Th-the identical evil sp-spirits who th-think only of th-themselves and sc-scoff at marriage are its n-natural enemy. They h-hold no power over you w-when you wear your cl-clothing inside o-out, you know. Their f-forces surely won't w-work against you to p-prevent you from d-discovering your true d-destiny and s-setting yourself on the p-path to finding t-true love now."

I wrinkled my nose, but without complaining, I trailed back to Anti-Buster so he could turn my crown from black to turquoise blue.

So, no doubt in anyone's mind which zodiac they belonged under, we were let out to the lush and glowing gardens in a thin trickle. White paper lanterns lit by multicoloured flames hung from frizzing ropes that ran between what seemed like every tree in the entire place (many of which had adult Anti-Fairies roosting from their branches to witness the ceremony and cheer their offspring on). Even the cloudstones beneath our feet had been swept clear of any stray black or grey leaves. Ashley, who was already much taller and more broad-shouldered than I was, kept his hand placed between my wings and steered me forward more than I led him. I shook my head and allowed myself to grin. To think! Why, just four years earlier I had hauled him from his dying mother's pouch with my own claws!

"Julius?" he whispered, suddenly stopping in the middle of the path to turn towards me. The enormous spiky tuft in the front of his dark blue hair bobbed each time he moved. "Do you think my partner will, you know… like me?"

"Of course." I pushed his chest. "You act tough sometimes, but you're a big softy, you old rascal."

He glanced up at the sky. "I wish our dads had been married to our mums. Maybe then they would be here to see us."

"Blimey, that would've been pleasant, wot?"

His eyes closed. "I'm going to stay with my partner forever. No matter what happens."

"Break it up, you two." Teresa grabbed my elbow and pulled me away. "Didn't you hear Anti-Buster? We've all got to take our places at our own zodiac's garden ornaments. For us Waters, that's Sunnie's bridge. Keep it moving, chillybutt. Follow the glowy turquoise flowers."

"Ugh." I threw back my head, but let her drag me on anyway. "For the record, you are an irritatingly pushy nag and I wouldn't exchange rings with you if you were the last Water year in Hy-Brasil."

She stuck her tongue out at me.

Sunnie was the third-eldest of Tarrow's seven sons. The arched entrance of the mystic black gazebo in the garden's centre pool faced Dayfry's place near the Castle's back entrance. This put Water Years such as myself over on its right side. From where we clustered on the wooden bridge, I could catch glimpses of other pups taking up their respective places here and there, but only until Angus and Samuel stepped in front of me.

"Lighter furs in the front," Anti-Buster droned, sweeping past us on foot as always, his cloak flowing at his heels and arms locked behind his back. "Darkers in the back."

"What!" I cried.

He swivelled his attention on me. "Lighter furs in the front. Darkers in the back."

I twitched my nose, but complied, sticking my thumbs in my tunic's too-loose belt. The bridge would have been wide enough for the five of us Castleborns to stand on comfortably, but we'd joined up with easily three dozen unfamiliar Anti-Fairies born into neighbouring towns and colonies. The magic leaking off them all at once rang like chimes in my ears. When I shifted towards the right side, I could see well enough through a gap between Harriet and Angus. A respective hush gently fell over the entire place. Even the eels and fish hummed quietly in the reeds.

Murmurs started up again, though softly, when Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina ducked through the wispy curtain and stepped out onto the rear-facing Castle balcony, behind the Love Years. Both he and she held a spiralled candle in a dish which sizzled with red flames. Anti-Elina wore a puffy green dress decorated with glitter and cobwebby strings, her gloves russet like autumn. Anti-Bryndin wore a yellow coat beneath his black scarf- a fancier coat than I'd seen him in the previous Naming Days I'd been alive for. It had at least eight buttons down the front, and he even wore a white cravat. It looked quite nice, though he itched it constantly. I paused to squint. Hadn't he been wearing a different set of yellow clothes for the New Year celebrations we'd had earlier this morning? Something stretchier?

Ears swivelled. Heads turned. Shushes flew. All became quiet again. A single royal toad croaked among the drifting lilies and abruptly dove into the water. Anti-Buster, who had crossed the stepping stones to stand before the black gazebo with its scarlet lanterns, bent down on one knee in Anti-Bryndin's and Anti-Elina's direction.

Then he stood again, taking an ornate white box up in his arms. "I stand in as Tarrow's representative," he called, louder than I'd ever heard him before. "I act as the ever-neutral party on the camarilla court. Seven years ago, Mother Nature named the Love year the Year of the Crossed Stars. Let the betrothals of the Crossed Stars cohort commence. May destiny, not happenstance, guide us all."

He started with the whispering children who'd gathered near the purple bench in Dayfry's slice of the courtyard, of course. I couldn't see much from where I bounced on my toes, but I'd been told the routine a thousand times. One by one, each Anti-Fairy present reached into the white box and withdrew one of the black handkerchief packets that Anti-Buster had shown us years ago. Though they giggled and shifted and plucked at the bundles with their claws, no one dared to open them. Not yet. Not while Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina were up there with the enchanted candles still burning.

Anti-Buster drifted clockwise to those in Saturn's Fire year at the lava well, and then he moved to us at the blue bridge. With my darker fur tone and younger age, I was relegated to be the last to draw. The package lay silky smooth in my palm. I held it up to the light of a nearby turquoise lantern, squinting through the dark cloth as Anti-Buster left us for the Skys.

A single, solid ring was definitely wrapped inside the dark cloth. Such betrothal rings were sculpted of hard foggilite, and they rubbed (sometimes painfully) against our knuckles as a constant reminder of the promises we were making today. In addition, when worn, their colours would declare the year of our birth even from a distance, allowing those who wished to approach us to consider whether we might be compatible with them, as well as determine whether we had already been promised to someone else. Later, when we engaged in official marriage as adults, the coloured rings would be exchanged for bands of black leather set with chips of our partner's zodiac gemstone instead. I couldn't tell what colour the ring in my package was, but somewhere out there in the crowd, some other handkerchief bore a turquoise ring to balance it. There had to be.

I glanced at my fellow Waters, all of them shifting on their heels. Each seemed bigger, tougher, faster, and stronger than I was. Fleetingly, I didn't much care for my odds. The moment I glimpsed my colour, I would have to utilize the one thing I did have a surplus of - intelligence - and outwit them, lest every potential match for the Water year be claimed too quickly, and I found myself standing in the courtyard with no betrothed at all. Just like Augustus. He had let himself be pushed around, and now his ringless finger branded him an outcast in the Castle for life. I would not make the same mistake.

Samuel rubbed his hand against his shirt and glanced back at me. "So? Do you hope you get paired with a damsel or a drake?"

I blinked. "It doesn't really matter, does it? If our karma is balanced and we're selected by fate, what else is there?"

"I dunno. I was just asking."

"Well, I prefer not to make plans. Once you put work into those sorts of things, you start calculating the positive and the negative outcomes. You get attached." I shrugged. "While I do set myself towards long-term goals, such as marriage in general, I prefer to work with what I'm given and let Tarrow guide as he will from there. As long as I get betrothed to my fated today, I'll be happy. And if I don't…"

Then my social life as I knew it was over. I quivered to imagine what Mother's reaction would be then, if not one but  _two_  of her sons failed to make ends meet. I smoothed my hair. Contrary to popular belief, I actually did brush it regularly. Three times this morning alone, and once in the afternoon. Prickled messiness was simply in its nature.

"… Well, if I don't, then I suppose that's fate too, and I'll find a way to work with that."

Anti-Buster finished passing out the rings and returned to the gazebo's rocky island. He stepped inside and placed the white box reverently on its dais. There it would stay to soak up the rest of Naming Day until late tonight when he carried it back inside the Castle and it vanished for another seven years.

Stepping out of the gazebo, Anti-Buster bowed on one knee again. This time he didn't get up. My eyes slid up to the balcony as Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina raised their spiralled candles high.

"The time has come to open your packages and learn the zodiac of your betrothed," she announced. Rustling picked up all around me. "By sacred decree, there is to be one minute of silence and stillness in honour of Tarrow, beginning now. Do not any of you shift your feet from where you stand. Take the time to ponder over your ring and reflect on what Tarrow has blessed you with. The search for your partners will begin when the lanterns are blown out."

I wedged my claws beneath the braided white cord and tore it loose. The kerchief fell open in my hand, bearing my coloured ring towards the sky. It was shiny, glimmering, dark sapphire blue.

Sky.

For a moment, I could do nothing but stare at it in disbelief. The Sky spirit, Munn, was a trouble-making prankster who endangered himself - and others - far more often than he ever saved the day. He was the spirit of speed, travel, and kindness, in addition to being a clever escape artist and thief. True, he was on good terms with Sunnie, as they were both considered the princes of the cloud spirits. As respective spirits of Focus and Acceptance, the bond between them represented hope for the future, forgiveness for the past, and mutual self-discovery through careful, patient exploration. Not to mention that whenever they kiff-tied in the old stories, snappy and sarcastic commentary was guaranteed. Sure, I would try to trust in fate, but was Tarrow really sure this was the match meant for me?

Well. While they weren't quite the natural match that Water and Soil were (Sunnie and Twis having been fated, "yellow-bonded" partners themselves), Sky was still a fairly decent match for a Water year. The two were considered to have a "purple bond", or one that could easily sway either way, for good or for bad. Thank Tarrow I hadn't drawn Winni's yellow ring, for Sunnie was notorious for begrudging the spirit of rest and self-care in the old stories. No surprise then that Sunnie got along so much better with the spirit of Devotion and hard work than the one he considered the embodiment of sloth…

With a Sky hand in hand with me, it wasn't so likely I'd struggle to act in sync with my betrothed, or have to be dragged off sometimes and forced to engage in the hours upon hours of special education that taught partners of naturally non-compatible zodiacs to understand each other and function properly. A Soil year would have been preferable, but I wouldn't necessarily turn up my big nose at a Sky. After all, I'd been raised among them almost more than I'd been raised among Waters. Quite the lovely bunch, our Castleborns.

Who were my options? Ashley, of course, though privately I knew him too well. We were related. While it wasn't  _unheard_  of for cousins to exchange affectionate kisses, it was generally frowned upon in Anti-Fairy society. Those marriages among cousins were traditions of Seelie culture; evidently, they were unlikable even to each other, and had such limited ability to woo that their parents had to do it for them.

Kasey, Day, and Prickle all fell beneath Sky year too, though none of them particularly caught my fancy as a marriage partner. They were like siblings, and we bickered awfully under the wrong circumstances. That left Tumble as my best choice. He tended to be more forward than I was comfortable with, snatching others' toys and puzzle pieces and such, but then again, that would make us a balanced pair. He could manage the socializing activities, and I would run damage control in the background. We'd make for an excellent team.

Of course, on top of that, there was always the chance that I could be matched to one of the strangers from the neighbouring colonies. Oh, there would be so much to do tonight! Dining together at the feast, introductions to one another's parents, hours spent talking and getting to know one another intimately, showing him or her around, our first bundle together at roost…

… All this assuming I even landed myself a partner here today first.

I glanced around, sucking on my lower lip, as everyone waited in frozen anticipation for the High Count and Countess to signal that our minute of peace was up. Munn was Tarrow's fourth son. The Water and Sky years were immediate neighbours on the zodiac. The fastest way to reach their section of the gardens would be to move to the left. Curses! I was on the wrong side of the bridge! If I could just quietly scoot over-

 _"Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly._  You dare mock Tarrow's time of peace?"

My wings stiffened. My body turned to ice. My foot was in the air and I was no longer facing Tarrow's gazebo, so I couldn't really deny what I had been doing.

How had Anti-Elina noticed me from up there?

When she called me out, the Waters in front of me turned around to smirk, scoff, or stare. I became increasingly aware of the adult Anti-Fairies roosting in trees around the garden, and their eyes bore into the back of my sweaty neck. My bare foot came down again. I shifted back to the right side of the bridge. Or the wrong side, as it were.

Oh gods. Were they still looking at me?

I knew I should be trying to strategise. I should be craning my neck in the hopes of glimpsing my fellow's rings. Then I would know which way they were likely to bolt when the signal was given, and I could avoid being trampled. But all I could do was stare at my feet.

Were they still looking at me? What were they saying about me? Who were they talking to? Did my mother know? Was Augustus even out here? He was supposed to be out here. He'd promised he'd be out here. But, wouldn't he have settled to roost in one of the trees near Sunnie's bridge if that were the case? Shouldn't he be watching me? Was I not worth the effort of leaving the Castle? Were his precious service projects and kitchen duties more important than his own brother? Had he abandoned me? Did he even love me anymore? Was I just a burden to him? I didn't really have any close friends- was I just a burden to _everyone?_ Did burdens even deserve Tarrow's influence in their lives?

The last two dozen seconds of Tarrow's minute were painful ones. I clutched my ring in one hand, my handkerchief tucked into my belt. Even when I was almost sure all attention had turned to the balcony again, it didn't make the burning in my eartips lighten up at all.

"Tarrow's minute has ended," Anti-Bryndin proclaimed. "We start the hunt for partners now. It is your fate. It's decided.  _C'est la vie_." He and Anti-Elina blew their candles out. As one, every paper lantern in the garden went with them. All that was left to light our way were the glowing flowers and garden creatures, and the faint stars high above.

The game began. I took a step back, but one of the foreigners shoved me to the ground on his way past. I plopped on my back, crumpling my tied wings. "Hey!" I cried, but no one stopped. No one helped me up. Everyone was too busy shouting, scrambling off through the gardens, beating their wings, except for the Waters who had opened their handkerchiefs to find Water rings, and were rapidly making selections from the cream of the crop. I rolled to my feet by myself and huffed through my nostrils. Fine. I got the message. I was on my own.

Off to find the Skys. At least since the others had gotten a head start, they were no longer in my way and I didn't have to push. Making it to the Sky section of the garden would be simple. It wasn't as though it or Munn's astrolobe were that far away.

Except, some of those Waters who had run off certainly had Sky rings of their own. And the number of Skys who had drawn Water rings was certainly limited.

Oh dear.

I hurried to the end of Sunnie's bridge, clenching my ring in one hand and my throat in the other, as I watched the others take off. It took all my self-control not to burst into screams.  _Their wings!_  They weren't tied down like mine.  _Canetis_  rings might hold down their ears, rob them of their echolocation, and make them clumsy, but they didn't steal the powers of flight altogether. All around me, Waters scrambled up the railing of Tarrow's bridge and dropped off, giving them the lift they needed to break into flight. They skimmed across the centre pond, wings spraying droplets with every fanatic beat. Even as I darted through the garden, batting draping fronds and glowing vines out of my face, I couldn't help but notice just how many of them were gliding. Alarm flared up in my chest and spurred my scramble on.

All the Waters could fly. Except for one.

No. Other pups were scaling boulders and small trees, climbing up fountains and bits of fence where grapevines grew. They were tossing themselves into the air, all of them with merry cackles or delighted squeaks on their tongues as they wobbled off. Why hadn't I thought of that? Why hadn't I planned for this?

So all the pups in the garden could fly, apart from one. No one had brought this to attention before the ceremony began. Had no one thought of me? Did they even care? Now that I noticed it, shouldn't even Mother have extended a grain of pity my way and cut the rough rope that tied my wings together? She wouldn't want me to fail today, right? She- she didn't like punishing. She wouldn't want to find flaws in her children- She wouldn't use my inability to land myself a match today as an excuse to treat me as an outcast! She already had Augustus whom she hit- whyever should she want to turn against me? True, my mother may not have wanted to birth me, and perhaps she didn't love me quite as much as she should, but didn't she still  _like_  me, at the very least? Why should she want to torture one of her own smoke and blood?

In my panic, I tripped over a stick that branched into three at one end. Its sharp twigs scratched my thin legs. I fumbled, arms pinwheeling, and crashed against the bank of the pond. Dry dirt, flecks of stone, and bitter ashes gave way beneath me. I scrambled with my hands and feet, but that only loosened them more quickly. Helpless, muddled, grounded, I slid down a short slope and into the pond with a quiet plop.

Water flooded my ears and nose. It seeped between my lips and coated my teeth with mucky filth. Mud and dirt swirled around me, triggering deep panic I didn't realise I had. I drew a thicker glob of magic from Cosmo's supply through my core, blinking and straining as swirling grit rolled about in front of my face. A bright eel snaked past my fingers. I kicked off, thrashing my legs, and clawed my way back to the surface. Drenched, dripping, I dragged myself onto solid ground.

Was it over? It couldn't be over yet- we'd only just begun. Anti-Fairies still swirled about every which way, though of course we'd had the order of the zodiac stamped across our brains ever since we were born. We knew which direction to go, who we'd find. Perhaps it would have been better for me to remain on Sunnie's bridge, and allow a Sky with a Water ring to come to me. I scowled in the general direction of several older damsels roosting together in a tree, hoping they wouldn't notice.

On my feet again. I hadn't lost my Sky ring, thank Tarrow, and I kept my hand in a fist as I dodged around topiaries and tried not to crush the vibrant flowers. At least not more than necessary.

When I broke from the thick bushes and stumbled across the mosaic of white and navy-blue tiles that formed a bird with wings outspread across the ground, I paused to orient my senses. It was mostly empty in this corner of the gardens. All the Skys had moved from their places, apart from two who had clearly bonded with one another. They say together, happy as larks, beside the great astrolobe. I didn't recognize either one of them. How many commoners had been brought in from the outside world to steal our opportunities, again?

I waited impatiently for a break in their conversation, then when the pair looked over at me, asked, "Would either of you happen to know the number of Skys who opened Water rings tonight?"

They shrugged. "There were only sixteen of us to start with," the damsel said.

"Right, thank you." I stumbled on around the gardens, heading towards Twis' section, knowing it was perhaps in vain. Already, Anti-Fairies were flying less across the pond, and settling more on the ground with partners in hand. A few here and there still raced about, attempting to match up. I had a Breath and a Fire approach me, but I could only shake my head and watch regretfully as they flew off.

I hurried through Twis' winding tunnel and headed on towards Winni's birdhouses, beehives, and peacock coops. In the process, I passed Ashley (me feeling a bit more relieved than more traditional adults might have liked when I saw the ring in his palm was green for the year of Leaves). He hadn't found a partner quite yet either, but I pointed him back the way I'd come, knowing with a twinge of jealousy that he surely would. How many Leaves with Sky rings could there be?

How many Skys with Water rings could there be?

A chilling quiet had fast begun to fall across the gardens. The dark lanterns bobbed on their strings. The plants around me weren't rustling quite as loud and fast anymore. Anti-Fairies were beginning to pull in their wings and settle down. The babbling voices were ones of excitement and greeting, not the calling out for a partner to meet them beside a certain aspect of the garden. In fact-

It was almost as though-

it-

were-

all-

… over.

It was over.

I made another circle around the garden at top speed, my arms pumping, wings fluttering at my back, bare feet slapping, only to be greeted with pitying glances by those who had sat down hand in hand with their betrothed.

The Skys were taken.

And it was over.

Back on Sunnie's lonely bridge, I collapsed to my knees and grabbed my hair in my fists. "No! That can't be it! This isn't the end!" Both hands dropped to the ground. I slammed them into the ashes, keeping my head bowed. My shoulders shook. "It's not  _fair!_ "

Gradually, the paper lanterns hanging from their strings began to glow around me. Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina must have lit their master candles again. As I crouched, huddled beneath the huge sleeves of my inverted tunic and my shaking wings, turquoise lantern light flickered over my arms.

"It's not fair," I whispered. The tip of my nose brushed the wood of Sunnie's bridge. Around me were tiny footsteps, adult wingbeats, and voices, and praise, and congratulations. Kisses and welcomes to the family line, to the rank of nobility. It was over. Because it was over, the lanterns had been lit again. Because the lanterns had been lit again, whole families of parents and pups now began to make their way across the gardens towards the rear entrance of the Castle again. In they would go, to feast and laugh in the great hall.

I clenched my fists until my claws bit my palms. So this was to be my fate. I accepted it with a bitter gulp. I did not pay attention to my peers when they shot me pitying glances as they passed by hand in hand with their newfound partners. I did not care. I did not feel…

… ashamed.

No. I covered my mouth, squeezing my lips. Then, blindly, I drew back my arm and hurled my Sky ring through the railing of Sunnie's bridge. It pinged off a stepping stone and splashed somewhere in the middle of the pond. Then I slapped my hands to the wood again, and shook alone.

I raised my eyes at last, though not my head, when Anti-Buster's shiny black shoes and fluttering cloak hem came to a stop right in front of me. "Julius," he said, "the ceremony is finished. You know the Castle rules, sir. No pups allowed in the garden unsupervised during mealtimes."

I shook my head.

"Come along, sir," he prompted, making no attempt to reach out to me- physically, or emotionally. "You're expected in the great hall for supper."

A second, smaller figure stepped out from behind Anti-Buster. For a hopeful instant, I thought it might be Augustus. He was thin like Augustus, he wore a purple flower in his shirt today to represent Love like Augustus, and the two had the same middle tone of blue fur and the same ringless hand. But it wasn't Augustus. This nose was small and pointed instead of long and rounded, the hair black and long in the back instead of short and blue. It was Caden.

He crouched beside me and lifted my hand. "Tarrow's plans for you all be coming together later, matey," he promised. "You've simply not reached there yet. Your soulmate just never arrived at the Castle today. Arr, perhaps he or she has yet to be born. You be only four and a half years old, aye? It perhaps be a long time until you be finding the right one to marry. Tarrow trusts you, and he be guiding you along your destiny. Rest assured of that."

I jerked my hand away. "I don't want to wait until later! I was promised a soulmate. Tarrow wouldn't want both me and my brother to suffer this way!"

Anti-Buster's scalding pink eyes lingered on my fingertips. "Sir? Where is your betrothal ring?"

"Um…" I remembered the satisfying  _plunk_  the thing had made when its shiny surface had broken the still water. My ear twitched. "See, I, ah, dropped it just a moment ago. I'll go and fetch it. I know it's a sacred thing."

He studied me for a moment, then sighed and turned with a swish of his cloak. "Wherever it is, go and fetch it. Don't try to return it to the box in Tarrow's gazebo- just bring it straight inside. Do be quick, sir. I have duties to oversee inside. I will allow you a moment to gather your composure before you join the introductory ceremony and place your unclaimed ring on the head table. If you have not come inside by the time the food is presented, I will come and locate you again."

 _Better luck next time,_ was the implication. Only, there wouldn't be a next time. I nodded slowly as Caden gave me a wave and the two moved off towards the Castle.

Retrieving that miserable betrothal ring from the pond wouldn't be pleasant, but I knew the rule of our little game nonetheless. If the ring wasn't placed on the finger of our fated match tonight, it was to be returned to Anti-Buster during the ceremony inside, so that he could hold it in a safe place should we ever marry our true soulmate and want it back for sentimental reasons.

I left Sunnie's bridge and crept down the bank, holding the reeds in my fists and testing for solid ground with each step as I went. Perhaps it was a bit silly. After all, even if I approached the pond cautiously, I had thrown the ring a fair distance for my little arm, so getting wet in order to retrieve it was inevitable. When I realised that, I let go of the reeds and slid down onto a smooth brown rock. Cold, black water sucked at my ankles. A certain electric hum tingled in the air.

Well. No time. Inhaling a deep suck of magic, I stepped off the rock.

A shape lurched out at me from under the bridge.

With a yelp, I flashed my right hand towards my left hip, where my silver training sheath usually hung with my child-safety wand tucked away inside. The sheath that had been taken away for tonight, as we weren't permitted to call upon magic as we searched the gardens. A pity. I scrambled backwards, grabbing at reeds that snapped and dipped in my hands. My feet slipped, I slipped, and together me and my feet crashed into the pond.

Drenched, sputtering, I looked up as the dark shape from beneath the bridge burst out of the water in front of me and turned into a damsel about my age. "Guys, guys, I grabbed the glower!" she crowed, holding a purple, bioluminescent royal toad in her hands. Then her smile dropped. She pricked her ears with a jingle of  _canetis_ rings. "Good gravy. Did you guys and girls get going without me?"

Her fur was lighter in colour than mine; understandably she was a little taller than I was, though the dark water whisking about her calves made it difficult to tell for certain whether or not she were standing on sloped ground. This was, after all, the creek which ran downhill beneath Sunnie's bridge to the pond. Perhaps the oddest thing about her was the colour of her wings. Most Anti-Fairies bore black ones, though some ranged to dark brown. Even grey wasn't entirely unheard of. However, this damsel's wings were such a pale shade of brown, they were almost pink.

Not that she didn't have enough black on her elsewhere. The damsel's short hair gleamed shiny black like the water and leaves around us, puffy and springy despite the water dripping from her curls. Her eyes were red, the lack of colour indicating non-noble blood. She stood there, her soaked brown coat clinging to her thin frame. Its hood had filled with water, gradually draining and dripping down her back and making her shiver. The sleeves were much too big for her. They drooped over her hands, and over part of the royal toad as well.

"Uh…" I still sat in the muck, my knees jabbing out of the water. My toes clenched. I shifted my eyes to her bare right hand. "H-how long were you under that bridge?"

The damsel hummed as she thought about it. "It's impossible to ensure exactly accurate information. An eternity, almost."

Could… this be my fate? I didn't dare check the colour of her crown. Not yet.

"You're free to feel my frog," the damsel assured me. She pushed the toad's wrinkled, purple mouth against my cheek. Its throat swelled like a bubble, then released as it croaked. I pushed her wrist away.

"Ah, let's maybe put the toad back where he belongs now, darling."

She grinned at me with slightly yellowed fangs. Definitely a foreigner to this part of Plane 8; no one who took residence in the Blue Castle or lived in the nearby Anti-Fairy World capital city of Luna's Landing would dare allow their teeth to look so filthy. "You mean, 'I propose we perhaps place our purple pal in the precarious pond permanently'."

I curled my lips into a smile. "I see you're a fan of alliteration. I'm from the Anti-Coppertalon colony. My name is Julius Anti-Lunifly. Could I compare it with yours?"

She hummed again for a moment before she gave in. "Mona Anti-Feldspar. Anti-Bentleaf colony." Mona studied the toad still in her hands, then, with clear reluctance, set it down in the mud nearby. The tubby toad gave out one last croak and hopped away into the reeds.

Once her hands were free, Mona placed one across her stomach and bowed. The other hand, she offered to me. I took it, water droplets sloshing down my arm, and allowed her to pull me to my feet, whereupon I removed my turquoise-blue crown and bowed in return. She really was taller than me. Not by much, and not for long, I hoped. With luck, I might outgrow her by the time we hit 150,000.

"Yay, you're a Water whippersnapper," she said, studying the crown as I replaced it in the gravitational field above my head.

"Oh? What do you mean by 'Yay', pray tell?" For the first time, I dared to take a peek above her head. My core seemingly fell from my head to my throat and pumped until my tongue dried in my mouth. Could this be true? Was it all really happening? Did Tarrow care about me enough to bless me with a soulmate after all? If she was a Sky, her crown turned temporarily navy blue-

…

It was brown.

Mona felt around in one of the bulging pockets of her coat. She wore an amauti, I realized, though I had to think the word over carefully to ensure I remembered right. It was quite thick and fluffed up, its hood enormous and engulfing. The coat stretched just past her knees like a tunic. If it was indeed a true amauti, that meant she was an anti-qalupalik.  _Faeumbra crepito_ , her subspecies was called. Her bobbing crown bore only three points instead of the anti-fairy six. Oh! That would explain the pale pink-brown wings. The patron bat of the anti-fairy subspecies was the Elrulian free-tail, which had given my kind our long tails and white toes. The anti-qalupalik patron happened to be the northern ghost bat. Yes, that sounded right. Though  _northern_  compared to where, I didn't remember being told. That was research for another day.

"My meaning," she said cheerily as she drew a blue ring from her pocket, "must make manifest that I'm matched with a Water man."

"Really?" I studied my reflection in her crown and straightened my wings. "I say, that's a lark. I'm matched with a Soil."

Mona's eyes brightened from deep maroon to cherry crimson. She let out a short, pleasant hum. "Crikey! That's a convenient coincidence. Can I catch the colour?"

She meant the ring. She wanted to see the ring. Now? I tapped the claws of my right hand against my knee, then gave my ear a flick.

"Well now, see, when I was out and about searching for my match, I dropped it in the pond. That's why I'm out here after everyone else went in. And, here we are. Quite the marvellous display of fate, wouldn't you say?"

Mona had begun to suck on her knuckle when I'd said, 'Everyone else went in'. "Our friends and fellows went forward feasting without us?"

"Good smoke, how long were you under that bridge for? I'm beginning to wonder if the water clogged your pointed ears." I presented her with what I hoped was a reassuring grin, and reached out to give her cheek two quick pats. "Hurry along and find us a place in line so we can announce ourselves at the ceremony, darling. I'll fetch it back and catch up to you quick. Go on."

Mona nodded. Still shaking water out of her hood, she scrambled up the bank on the other side of Sunnie's bridge and hastened off.

Once she'd vanished into Saturn's Fire segment of the garden, and hopefully from there to Dayfry's and the Castle after that, I released the magic in my cheeks. I climbed out of the pond and picked my way around until I stood before one of the seven stepping stone paths that led up to Tarrow's gazebo.

No one tried to stop me. This had to be my fate.

I dipped my thumbtoe in the pond. Again, silly and pointless, seeing as my tunic was already rather soaked and threatening to chafe. The first stepping stone was too far a jump for me to make with my wings tied against my back. The attempt sent me plunging down. Black water exploded through my mouth and down my throat; I had to swallow it. Sputtering, I sloshed over to the first stone and dropped my cheek against its jutting corners. One down. In this painful manner, I hopped my way across the pond to Tarrow's looming black and red gazebo on its little centre island.

The ornate white box still rested inside, alone on a tiny dais, like the head table in the great hall. I lingered at the gazebo entrance, kneading my knuckles against my thumbs. A lingering creepiness stirred the air about the place and sent my knees trembling. I hardly dared to disturb a place which seemed so sacred.

Then I remembered Augustus with his ringless hand. I remembered the shame of trembling on the ground while my proud peers all looked upon me in mocking. I took a breath, took a step, and lifted the lid of the box with two shaking hands.

Less than a dozen neat packets remained inside. I had to unwrap four of them before I found a Soil ring, sparkling and amber brown. I grabbed it, shoved it on my finger, stuffed the black handkerchief between my fangs, and tied the rest of the betrothal rings back up as I had found them. True, I was generally clumsy for a creature born in the Water year (said to carry Sunnie's blessing of agility), but I was adept in my fine motor skills and quite a natural at tying knots.

Then I shut the box's lid and backed out of the gazebo. The sickly, warning feeling clung like fog to the ends of my fur.

"I'm actually doing this," I murmured, fingering the Soil ring as I stared at the box. "No one is stopping me. This must be my fate."

I didn't waste any more time idling. I hopped the stepping stones back to Dayfry's section of the garden, paused to dip the ring in the pond so it would be wet when I gave it to Mona, and sprinted for the door.

It was a long run from the rear of the Castle to the great hall, but the thrill of locking eyes with Mona again lent wings to my heels. I heard the bustling noise of the celebration all the way from the courtyard. Shrill pup voices cut through the air on occasion as each pair came up to the dais and introduced themselves to the High Count and Countess, after which Anti-Bryndin would repeat their names in his bouncing chirrup for the crowd. And I laughed as I ran. I was one of them! I was one of _them!_

The doors to the great hall had been propped open, thank Tarrow. Yes, I did thank him quite a bit. I glanced swiftly about for Mother, didn't spy her, and ducked in without being much noticed by anyone. Vegetable-stuffed tortilla strips rolled up like pinwheels, creamy heaps of golden corn, vanilla-frosted cockroaches, platters of stinky cheese (Pass!), skewered chunks of mango and apple, young mice with strawberries stuffed in their mouths, blue beans, and baskets of honey-drizzled bread slices had already been spread across the tables.

A long line of pups snaked along the far wall, leading up to the head table where Anti-Bryndin stood. Rosy red light filtered in through the barred windows above the newly-betrothed pairs, along with the occasional dust mote that would instantly captivate those whose heads it floated over. I shook my head. Youth.

Mona, of course, waited at the rear of the line with her hood mostly up and hands stuffed in her amauti pockets. She'd been craning her neck towards the doors, ears frantically twitching in the hopes of scooping up my shape and form. When I slipped over to her, her wings and shoulders relaxed.

"Ready to roll? Did you round me up a real ring?"

"Of course," I puffed out. Then and there, I lifted her right hand and slid it over her claw and into place on her middle finger. She studied it, tilting her hand one way and the other to watch the torchlight glint off its sleek brown surface. I leaned my own hands against my knees then, still soaked and freezing, now fighting against my Fairy Refract counterpart Dame Cosmo for a sizable share of Cosmo Prime's filtered magic to drink from, until Mona held up her Water ring. I extended my hand to her, palm down, with my eyelids tightened. I didn't dare watch, for in doing so, I might shatter the dream. Thereupon I would jolt awake, wet not from the pond but from my tears, shivering in the garden outside without a match to my name.

The foggilite was cold, smooth, and beautiful against my knuckle. When I peeked, Mona stood in front of me, smiling with those faint yellow teeth. They weren't so yellow in this light, even though it was the colour all the torches in the hall were glowing. They were very pretty teeth; her fangs were short and sharp, as opposed to being long and slightly curled like mine.

"Perfect pair of partners," she whispered. She gave my hand a squeeze. Like we belonged together! She held it the whole time we stood in line, our hands swinging and both of us giddy as caterpillars. Eventually, we stepped onto the dais where Anti-Bryndin stood to greet us. Anti-Elina perched on the table with her legs dangling in front, a patient smile pressed against her lips. Anti-Buster sat in the leftmost chair, his foreclaws resting against his lips. I pointed at Mona and grinned at him. He did not acknowledge it.

Anti-Bryndin tipped his head when he saw me. He gestured to me with his hand. "You?"

I lifted my chin. "Julius Anti-Lunifly of the Anti-Coppertalon colony. She's Mona Anti-Feldspar of the Anti-Bentleaf colony. I asked."

Mona hummed with amusement. Several chuckles circled the great hall. Oops. Had I spoken out of turn, introducing Mona instead of allowing her to introduce herself? I shook my head and laughed along with them, because I didn't even care. Anti-Bryndin repeated what I'd said in a much deeper, louder voice. My roaming eyes at last picked out my mother, sitting at one of the nearest tables beside a beaming Augustus. The frown on her face as she sized up Mona suggested she'd had higher hopes, but that was only to be expected from her. Her scathing blue eyes were not washing over me, shaming me, and I was quite all right with that.

Mona and I dropped off the dais and sought out a place to sit. Augustus motioned us over. Goody-goody that he was, he was hardly popular and space had been left on the bench beside him. I bit my lip, glancing left and right. I always sat with Augustus at supper. Where were the other matched pups, the popular crowd?

Tumble waved us over to another nearby table. Samuel, Teresa, and Harriet joined in with eager whispers and low congratulations. I pulled Mona after me, and made sure she had no trouble taking her seat. Of course, it was easier for her, since she was taller and her wings weren't tied like mine. But, I didn't make as much of a fool as I normally did, scrambling onto the bench. I settled myself, up on my knees, hands braced against the table, and looked about.

"Pass the garlic bread and the blue beans, please, Electro, old chap. Oh, and the pickled pinkies along with it. I'm in the mood to celebrate!"

Ashley leaned forward on his elbows. "I'm glad for you, Julius. When I saw you sitting on the ground, I was worried you'd given up hope."

"Me? Perish the thought. Since when do I ever give up on my long-term goals?" I paused then, and tilted my head. "What about you? Did you…?"

He shrugged his wings. "Tarrow knows what he's doing. Everything will work out for the best one of these days."

"Oh. I see."

Together we ate and joked, devouring probably more of the appetizers than we ought to, the main course not having even been revealed yet (Though the rumours hinted the cooks were planning to bring in roasted lidérc and griffin veal for the occasion). When I was mid-bite in another piece of garlic bread, Mona hummed and nudged me between the ribs with her elbow.

"Julius, the culprit in the crimson cape is currently catching curiosity."

I turned my head. The bread fell from my mouth. Anti-Buster was indeed staring in our direction. Or rather, directly at my eyes. As I watched, frozen, he leaned over and murmured something in Anti-Bryndin's ear without dropping eye contact. Anti-Bryndin looked up from his honeywheat roll and looked over at me too. Then he looked sharply at Anti-Buster. Then at me again. He put the roll down.

"Uh-oh," I said, sinking everything below my nose beneath the table. "I'm in trouble."

"Darn declared?" Mona asked. "You didn't dare do anything deeply dangerous or despicable. Did you?"

Anti-Buster braced both hands against the table. He pushed back his chair, rose, pushed it in again, then descended from the head table and started in my direction. I covered my face, sinking lower, as Mona and the others tried to urge me up again.

All too soon, Anti-Buster closed his hand over my shoulder. "Julius?" he asked, his voice low and nearly disappearing beneath the conversations around us. "Might I have a word with you in private, sir?"

I shook my head, clinging to my bangs.

"I request an audience, sir." Anti-Buster lowered one of my hands from my face and tugged me out of my seat. His grip on my wrist was gentle, but I still shook him off and tailed miserably after him without being dragged along. The gazes and whispers of those still at the table stung the back of my neck.

We moved out of the great hall and into the silent hallway. Anti-Buster took several steps down the statue-lined corridor that led to the Castle's front entrance, then turned around. "What happened during the betrothal ceremony tonight, sir?"

I tried to meet his eyes, but the tears forced my swimming gaze to flicker down again. I tugged at the front of my tunic. It was still inside-out, damp, and truly beginning to chafe now. My toes tightened into the rug. "D-did something happen?" I asked. "I drew a Soil ring from my handkerchief bundle. When the lanterns went out, I looked about to find my match, same as anyone. Mona had slipped into the pond before the ceremony to chase a royal toad. Sh-she's an anti-qalupalik. They like water, and because we breathe magic from our c-counterpart's cores, we Anti-Fairies can of course stay underwater near indefinitely. Sh-she told me when we were at the table just now that she wants to heal animals when she grows up. So, she was in the pond, and for a time I couldn't find her. But in the end, after everyone started to go inside, I did. We met beside the pond. That's what happened. I swear it."

"Is that the truth?"

His eyes oozed across my scalp like stinging pink jellysweepers. I shoved my tears away with my knuckles and shook my head. "It's- I- Mona's my fated! We exchanged rings and we're together now, and we're happy. That's fate, isn't it?"

Anti-Buster said nothing, which was worse than him saying something. Scoldings I could take, but this waiting game burned my flesh from the inside out. I inhaled another trickle of magic through my core, then steadied my chin and looked up.

"H-how did you figure me out? It was my ear, wasn't it? Ashley always tells me my left ear flicks backwards when I lie. I can't help it."

Anti-Buster gave me a long, slow nod. He studied me for a moment more, then unfastened the black jellysweeper clasp on his cloak. Bending down, he removed the cloak and wrapped it around my shoulders instead. It was enormous, of course, but he closed it at my front and pinned the two sides together. The jellysweeper's tentacles stretched between them like chain links.

"Whoa," I said. I had to close my eyes and rub them with my fists before I dared to open them again.

"What do you see when you wear Tarrow's sacred garment, sir?"

"I…" I blinked again. My fingers closed. I lay them against my chest. "You… you're wearing a shirt."

It wasn't the most intelligent observation I'd ever made in my life, but for a moment, it was awfully important. Of course, Anti-Bryndin always wore his black shirt beneath his red cloak. But suddenly he had… Well, this shirt was very different. It hovered around him, clinging in place like a large sweater, as real as my eyelashes and yet as intangible as a rainbow. And it  _was_  rainbow. Perhaps hundreds of coloured threads wove in and out of connection with one another winding in thick, loose loops. Perhaps thousands. Long tendrils of yarn curled out from the edges of the metaphysical sweater, drifting about like jellysweeper tentacles. The ends snaked off to unknown realms- many into the great hall, and others simply around the corner until they disappeared

Anti-Buster dipped his head. "Look down at what you're holding, sir."

I'd been so busy trying to figure out how his second shirt was floating around him without exactly touching his body that I hadn't realized I was holding anything, but I did as he asked. I didn't wear a shirt like he did. In fact, I was practically naked, my tunic nonexistent. But, I did wear a thin ribbon of yarn around my neck, like the beginnings of a scarf. Its tail looped around my wrist. The tassels of the little scarf shimmered, somehow as green as my eyes and yet as turquoise as Sunnie's Water symbol, and sprouted like pasta noodles. The vast majority led into the great hall. A solid white line, thick and glowing, came from my head. It disappeared straight into the floor between my feet. Every other second, a burst of colour shot up from it and into my being. Usually yellow, though I saw one purple puff. Another white cord from my head led up into the ceiling, this time without the coloured puffs. Of course- those connected my core to that of Cosmo Prime and Dame Cosmo, he somewhere below on the lower Planes of Existence, she above. Those bright pulses must be the magic that I breathed.

"Sir?"

Oh. Right. My hands clutched a single length of yarn. Where it left my scarf, it was blue and green like the others. A mass of it lay scrunched at my feet before the length curled up again to meet my left fist. From there, it stretched to my right hand, so I held the yarn in both. Between them, the colours abruptly split. A fat blank tangle stared up at me. The writhing aura it projected made my stomach churn and my fingers crispen like I'd sat with my wings too near a torch.

Everything was green and blue to the left of the knot. On its right, the yarn turned simultaneously brown and yellow. That thread snaked around my hand and off into the great hall like the others, but I didn't have to ask to realise that if I followed it, it would lead me to where Mona sat, feasting happily. The knot between us must lie at the exact centre point. Perhaps it would stretch when we moved apart.

"You split your fate," Anti-Buster said patiently when I stammered out the obvious question. He still crouched, sharp knees pointed like spires, or claws. He had two white yarns stretching from his head like I did, and of course the engulfing rainbow sweater. "You took two people who weren't intended to closely bond together and forced them to meet anyway. If you and your partner were truly fated, the blend at the halfway point between your yarns would be seamless and red."

So the brown and yellow was indeed Mona's yarn. Perhaps she wore a little scarf of the stuff like I did. If these bits of yarn connected me to people I'd come in contact with, and Anti-Buster was older than both of us, it made sense that he would have enough yarn to form his sweater, whereas our supply was more limited as of now. I raised my gaze to meet his. "Am I in trouble?"

Anti-Buster folded his hands together, letting them rest between his knees. The purple ring on his middle finger caught the torchlight. "You aren't in trouble, sir."

"But you're still mad at me," I guessed, taking a step back. My fingers clenched around the yarn in my hands. My toes caught in the cloak. Anti-Buster grabbed my arm to keep me from falling over.

"No. None of us are mad, Julius."

"Disappointed?"

"Curious." Anti-Buster ensured that I was balanced, then withdrew his fingers. He pursed his lips. "You knew you were forbidden from entering Tarrow's gazebo. But you did, sir. You knew the rule that, were you not to find a match here at the Castle today, you were to retire with dignity inside with the rest of us and accept the destiny that had been laid out before you. But you didn't. You weren't meant to cut the  _canetis_  rings from your ears. And yet, again, you did, sir. You have always acted against your destiny."

I released Mona's half of the yarn and covered my eyes. "Well, because it's not _fair!_ Why should everyone else get to be betrothed, but not me? I waited just as long for this as anyone. I worked just as hard to find a match as anyone. Harder, even- I think I can go as far as saying that. I  _believed_  just as much as anyone else!" My hand dropped. "Anti-Buster, I want to believe in the Zodii philosophy, but… I don't know if I can put my faith in nature spirits who make me feel like- like I'm worth less than the people around me who didn't wait as long, or work as hard, or believe as much as I did."

Anti-Buster considered my words with four of his claws pressed together in front of his lips. I held my cheeks puffed, bracing myself

Instead, he nodded. It was long, and slow. "We would never force you to believe in the Zodii philosophy, sir. Should you wish to be, you may be excused from the proceedings, as young Darrell was. You need only to respect our traditions so long as you live among those who do believe."

"But I  _want_  to believe!" I picked up Mona's brown and yellow trail of yarn again and stared until it blurred before my eyes. "If… if the nature spirits want me to care about them, then they have to prove they care about me. Don't they want me to be happy? Don't they love me as much as they love the other pups in the Castle? Or- or am I being punished just because I was born so long after Friday the 13th? Am I just a burden? Their side project? Their last choice when it comes to granting miracles? Do they even notice me at all?"

Anti-Buster stretched his hand forward and placed his fingertips to the jellysweeper clasp against my chest. I couldn't tell if he wanted to take his cloak back now, or if he just wanted to soothe my mounting anxiety, but I fell silent anyway.

"I'll allow you to make the choice, sir," he said, his tone as patient and smooth as it ever was. "If you bring your partner back up to where Anti-Bryndin, Anti-Elina, and I sit, and you tell the four of us the truth, then the black knot will come apart. Your fate will return to the way it was intended to be. Your partner, of course, will return to her colony knowing what you did, and no longer believing you are a fated match. You won't be betrothed any longer."

I shook my head rapidly. Losing Mona wasn't an option.

"Or…" Anti-Buster raised his eyebrows. "You can choose to proceed with your plan as you intended, having forced the match against Tarrow's design. You can keep your knot, sir. I will not tell anyone what you've told me. Your life plays out as you grow up in the Castle, hand in hand with the partner you've knotted fates with. We will see what becomes of it. It's your choice."

I bowed my head. My claws slid along the yarn, plucking at it here and there, but it didn't frizz or snap beneath my fingers. I knew it wasn't really  _there_. Not really. This… this yarn was a thing of Plane 23. A holy, heavenly thing meant to be viewed by the nature spirits and the Wise Ancients. I shouldn't even be allowed to touch it like this.

My eyes squeezed shut. "I… I don't want to be an outcast like my b _rrr_ other. I really, really want to be betrothed. Everyone else gets to be betrothed. I don't want to worry about finding someone to marry when I grow up. I want to stay with Mona. I already like her. Please don't tell her I'm not her real match. Sh-she'd hate me."

I opened my eyes again. Just to the left of the black knot, the yarn broke apart. The threads unravelled, turned pink at their tips, then made themselves into a second knot and linked together again. My wings shook.

"Anti-Buster, it- it tied another knot. It's pink. What happened?"

He nodded. "You've made another karmic choice that resulted from your first action. You've begun to veer away from Tarrow's selected path for you."

"W-what does that mean?"

"A yarn that is free of knots is called 'destiny'. Those are fates that are touched by Tarrow's hands, and have not been interfered with by unnatural causes. If you want your fate to achieve the state of destiny, you'll have to figure out what you must do to untangle both knots." Anti-Buster slid his fingers down and placed two claws against my wrist. "In this case, you have to tell your partner what you've done."

Tell Mona I'd lied to her? Tell Mona I'd stolen from Tarrow's gazebo? Tell Mona I'd gone against his design? Tell Mona I was a liar and a thief and I'd been sacrilegious and-? I swallowed. "Is it… very bad if I have knots?"

Anti-Buster watched my face. He dipped his head again, just slightly. "That's for you to decide, sir. Tarrow outlined your destiny, but if you don't want to follow his plan, then it's your choice to split apart from it. Fate and destiny are real things, but you always have a choice to say no. You are your own Anti-Fairy. Never a plaything of the nature spirits."

As he started to unfasten the jellysweeper clasp at my neck, I realized something else. "Wait a moment. Your sweater has a significant number of knots in it." Most of them green. I raced my eyes along the ones nearest his throat. One of Anti-Buster's thickest threads appeared to be connected to his apparent soulmate, a fire-coloured yarn, in a blend of red and white; his red wasn't a seamless transition any more than mine was. It was a snarling knot the size of my fist, with fritzy fuzz sprouting in all directions. Other knots in various colours clumped around it.

The cloak came away. The loops of glowing yarn faded. "Yes," Anti-Buster said. "I have my own knots to carry, sir. I'm under no obligation to share why."

He stood. I stood too, just looking up at him for a moment. Then Anti-Buster beckoned for me to return to the great hall. "Finish your feast and enjoy every moment you spend with your partner, sir. Do seek me out if you ever feel the need. I would prefer you didn't tell your peers what we have discussed. The knots and the strings of fate are intended to be a sacred subject we only discuss when you're older. We don't want you worrying your puphood away. You are young, you will make mistakes, and you are learning to grow. On that note, please do not ask if I will let you wear my cloak again. It reveals far too much about yourself and your peers all at once, and isn't a garment to be worn lightly. There are Anti-Fairies who have been driven mad over matters like this, sir."

"Yes, Anti-Buster." But even so, I couldn't resist feeling at my bare neck as I returned to Mona, listened to her describe the mammoths and porpoises she wished to train someday, and later introduced myself to her mother and mum. Although there was no physical trace of them on Plane 8 where I grew up, as the years went by, I would pat my body and the air around me in search of my two known knots. Some days, under just the right circumstances, I swore I could truly feel them. They were solid things, tightly-wound things, resting at the base of my throat.

Try as I might to curiously pick at and loosen them with my claws, they never seemed to do anything more than fray.


	4. The Hand You're Dealt

_In which the Summer of the Blistered Hog occurs, and Julius is singled out for his training assessment results_

* * *

I pressed the tip of my little black wand into the final corner of the banner and muttered the words, "Stick and stay like rainy day," under my breath. Back in ancient times, incantations had been commonplace - nay, required - in order to perform what we now called starpiece variety magic to any great effect. Technology had come a long way since then. In modern day, our wands were capable of syncing up to our thought patterns and fulfilling desires with merely a twirl and a wave. Regardless, I found it comforting to chant the phrases I knew. Naming each word in the correct sequence gave me the confidence to thrust my magic through to completion, and I daresay I'm a believer that the verbal chants leant my natural abilities some much-needed additional strength.

The tip of my star-capped training wand glowed briefly with a yellow dot. When it died down and I withdrew, the  _Happy Friday the 13th_  banner stuck to the wall above the great hall entryway as well as though it had been glued.

And immediately after that, the ladder I stood on collapsed beneath me. First it shook, then it rattled, then it began to tip, and I crashed down to the stone floor. I yelped, thrashing my wand and bound wings against the air to no avail. Three young pups raced away down the hall, cackling maniacally. I sat up, spitting ribbons and streamers in various shades of blue from my mouth.

"Ooh, you bloody scoundrels! Don't you lot go running under ladders willy-nilly now! I was saving all that scrumptious bad luck for myself."

The only answer returned to me was another round of scoffing laughter. I puffed my cheeks and shook my head. Typical vagabond youth these days. I could hardly wait for the time they turned five years old like me.

A soft hum and jingling  _canetis_  rings hurried towards me down the corridor. I raised my bruised head to find Mona stretching her arm down to me, her frizzy black hair framing her face like a blurry halo.

"Any awful injuries?" she inquired, picking up my hand and pulling me to my feet. When we'd dropped from our roost that morning, she'd been wearing pink pyjamas with white lace trimming the hems of the sleeves. But for the training assessment she and I had for some Tarrow-forsaken reason thrust ourselves into that morning alongside Electro and Ashley, we'd both switched pyjamas out for robes bearing the traditional black and blue camouflage pattern which typically accompanied festivals of this nature. Mona had topped hers with her soft brown amauti. Of course, I had some doubts about the effectiveness of the camouflage look considering that even in the dark, her pale wings were so pink, they nearly glowed.

"No," I managed, and coughed into my elbow. "I've finished with the entryway now. What were you assigned to decorate for the celebration today, again? I could lend you an extra wand."

Mona smiled. "The tall tree top trio is totally taken care of. Tremendous timing, too; the time's ticked." Having said this, she gave my arm a ferocious yank, jerking my feet out of the tangled streamer grass on the floor. "Party preparations present? Please, pop to the portal passage. Anti-Elina is assigned to announce our assessment scores any instant."

"H-hold the crystal ball, Mona! We're heading to the portals? Right now? I-" I pushed my wand through my hair. My teeth clenched and relaxed almost in the same instant. "Good smoke. They're, um, finished calculating the results for this morning's exam already?"

Mona grinned. "Obviously! Anything else enormously exciting around?"

"Oh, gods," I muttered, grabbing my hair with both hands. My claws tightened around my wand. When I closed my eyes, I could still see myself standing in the centre of the training area, fumbling aimlessly back and forth as Electro and Ashley shouted and raced about me on either side. None of us had ever spent Friday the 13th in the field spreading bad luck before, but if our small team scored high enough in training, then all of that would change today. The memory made me swallow a burn in my throat. "We only just ran the assessment hardly two hours ago. I, ah, wasn't expecting the results so soon. I haven't yet prepared myself to know how I did. You remember I tripped over that snag in the rug and shattered that glass statuette. Ooh, what if Anti-Elina counts that against me? What if she counts it against all of us? What if that humiliating mistake of mine costs you all your first chance on the field? What if Electro holds a grudge against me forever after?"

As I continued to spout on with increasing agitation, working my claws into my scalp, Mona guided me along the zig-zagging castle corridors with a gentle hand on my arm. "Jeepers. Just be jovial, Julius. Your exam execution ended up extremely excellent, actually."

I bit my lower lip. Every step I took along the cold and lonely corridors had to be forced. One foot… in front… of the next. "Perhaps," I acknowledged, "but what if, Rhoswen forbid, I perhaps  _didn't_  cost us too many points on our assessment, and we manage to get greenlighted today- only for me to screw up awfully on the field? The very thought makes me shudder. Perhaps you might go toe to toe with a Fire umbra while I stand useless and awful on the sidelines.  _Mona!_ " I wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her back and forth until her fangs clacked together and her eyes became crossed and dizzy (Of course, no matter how much I rattled her, it wouldn't have any effect upon her ruffled hair). "You're a Soil hitting the field for the first time in a Fire year! Ooh, I knew it. I  _knew_  this was a horrid idea. Look here; now you're going to run into an entire pod of Fire umbrae and find yourself at an extreme disadvantage, and you'll get hurt, and- and-"

Mona paused from humming one of her many favourite tunes, and turned to peer at me. The nearest torches on the walls made her shadow stretch a lot farther along the floor than mine. I stared at them, panting softly and secretly, as she said, "Forget fretting. The worst thing that can happen is feeling fright. Alleviate anxiety. Our scores are each individual, and it's individually you excel." She took my hand from my hair, threading her fingers through mine, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "And even if you face failure, retry a run the following Friday the 13th. Anti-Praxis informed us it's three 13s this year."

That, the worst thing which could happen? Ha. The worst thing that could happen was that Electro would mock me without a hint of mercy for the remainder of our very long and miserable lives. Augustus would sigh and smother me in far too much pitying affection, Mother would smack my tail, and Anti-Bryndin would  _tsk tsk_  in that soul-crushing way of his while Anti-Buster sneered down his cold nose at me. Even if my fate was to pass my training course after retaking it a few months from now, it was unlikely to change anybody's long-lasting perception of me. Most probably, if -  _IF_  - I were ever to pass, Anti-Elina would assign me to spread bad luck in a team of highly-qualified adults who would do the hard work on my behalf while dragging me along after them as nothing more useful than a deadweight decoration.

I wanted to throw up.

But, I managed to retain my dignity, if not my sense of sanity. The stone beneath my feet froze the bottoms of my toes. Even my tail quivered with unease. We had just turned a hidden rear corner of the corridor and slowed our pace at the top of a thin, spiral staircase cut from black stone and lined with torches all the way down. They glowed red at this time of morning, taking pleasure in snapping with sparks and shedding soot. The polished steps gleamed with warped reflections which upset my eyes. Not to mention my still-churning stomach.

The stairs would lead Mona and I undercloud to the lowest level of the Castle. Before many of us who presently resided in the Castle had been born - even before the Fairies imprisoned us in our own kingdom during the War of the Sunset Divide, in fact - the thirteen portals down there had opened into various locations of highly-concentrated magic across the 24 Planes of Existence known to the magical universe. Now? Cloudy and murky almost 365 days a year, Friday the 13th remained the one time our beloved anti-fairy's dozen of portals cleared up, and we were free to spread our wings throughout Earth and Fairy World alike. With few exceptions, such as my embarrassing older brother, no Anti-Fairy would waste this chance to spread our influence far across the cloudlands on this, our most hallowed day.

The staircase was old and narrow, but regardless, it had been sculpted of the glossiest black stone available with the intention of warding off any negative energy which might leak up from the basement level. As she took the first step, Mona ran her palm along the handrail.

"Isn't its architecture beyond beautiful?" she murmured.

I descended the slippery stairs after her in silence. We pups didn't stray near this area regularly, but we came often enough. While the staircase was lovely, I suppose, it hardly altered the truth that it was, in fact, an old and narrow staircase.

But Mona still found the simple sight enrapturing every time our play led us in this direction. Her gaze combed the obsidian walls with the fervour a mother sea turtle might show the sandbar of her birth after a long but crucial journey, her crimson eyes glimmering in a few of the shinier patches. Her claws clicked all the way down. Since most of the Castle's occupants had vacated for obvious reasons earlier today, the two of us were able to enjoy a moment of pleasant quiet on the steps. Accented, of course, by Mona's ceaseless humming.

"You know," I said, observing Mona's flicking ears from behind, "when my brother was my age, he always wanted to be chosen as an architect. But of course, you have to be incredibly in-tune with the energy field to be asked to train as one of those, and at the last moment, the acolytes he would have trained under at the Love Temple decided he didn't have quite what it takes. Perhaps it was the distinctive motor tic which leaks his sonar into his speech and prompts his constant and irritating stutter. Or perhaps it was another factor entirely, hmm?"

We continued gazing at the smooth black walls as we descended further into the Castle depths. "I couldn't be clever enough to keep that creative career," Mona sighed.

I shrugged. One of my feet skidded dangerously on the step, and I grabbed the handrail. "No, I suppose not. I don't see the appeal myself, frankly. As I understand it, being an architect is made out to be a more glamourous position than it actually is. Sure, I suppose you're a cut above the rest allowed special privileges to visit roughly wherever you like whenever you choose, including throughout Fairy World, and I admire the work they do for us to provide positive channels of karmic flow in the universe, and I suppose it might be nice to flit about with everyone heaping praise on your head, but…" I adjusted my bound wings against my back. "Being the centre of attention in front of enormous crowds of strangers isn't precisely my cup of tea, you know what I mean?"

"It's noble of their numbers," Mona said, sliding her hand away from the railing. The spiral of the staircase tightened.

"To become architects?"

"Isn't it?" Abruptly she turned, and I wobbled on the step above her. Mona bit her lip. The fur along her cheeks and down the back of her neck began to prickle up. Her wings tensed. "We'd waste away without their work. Architects are our everything. Safely structuring, speaking with spirits, sending strength-"

I held my hands defensively near my chest as she finished up. "You know I of course intended no disrespect, darling. Obviously I appreciate them. I only noted that I would hate to have to be one myself. Um. Your mum is an architect, isn't she?"

Mona hummed softly in response. I knew the answer was yes, or I wouldn't have asked the question. The tightness in her body eased. We both fell silent, quickening our pace until our wand sheaths slapped against our legs with every other step-

-and my sheath caught my leg below the knee. That, combined with the shiny, slippery stairs, sent me tripping straight into her. I yelped her name, only it did no good. Mona grabbed for the handrail and flared her wings. That slowed her descent, but I tumbled past regardless. At the base of the steps, I inadvertently bowled over Electro and Ashley, and we landed in a clump of bumps and bruises.

"You have arrived late," Electro grunted into my arm. He'd sustained a pale cut along his chin from where my flashing claws had scraped.

Even Ashley tossed me a miffed look as he disentangled himself from our puddle. "Y'know, you're pretty clumsy, Julius, and I'm starting to wonder if you were even born in a Water year at all."

"Sorry," I whispered back, clenching my teeth. Personally, I preferred to blame my general lack of balance on the useful tail so annoyingly stashed away within my pants. That, and my bound wings, of course.

When I tilted back my head and squeaked out a soft burst of sonar, I picked up the form of a very lean, very tall shape leaning over us. Behind her stood the other young Anti-Fairies awaiting to receive their assessment scores. And beyond them stretched a corridor lined with two dozen doors, each one concealing a swirling portal that would release us into Fairy World. I struggled to sit up, fumbling for Mona's hand as she hopped to the bottom of the stairs with more grace than I had.

"Oh, um… Top of the morning, Nana Anti-Ember."

Anti-Ember chuckled, leaning both hands and most of her weight on the squiggly staff of polished wood that she used as a cane. Her chuckle was lightly amused instead of harshly mocking, and I forced myself to smile in reply. Although she was easily the tallest Anti-Fairy I'd ever seen in my life, the staff stretched above her head, and a lantern dangled from the upper spiral. It gleamed with pale orange light, giving her blue fur an almost golden glow. She said, "Easy on the wingbeats and claw scuttles, little puppies. As excited as you are about your first Friday the 13th on the field, no one gets to the portals without a nick on their neck to prove they're allowed."

Electro scrambled up, pointing his claw back the way we had come. "But- but- We passed our test! Anti-Elina said she was sure of it!"

"No nick, no portal." Anti-Ember leaned a little closer, pressing her cheek against her staff. "Let me see. How do they proctor the assessments these days? Did you all answer your twenty-six written questions about how to properly twirl the lines of the energy field to hex a foe?"

We chorused in confirmation.

"And you showed off your umbrae-hunting skills as a team together in the training arena?"

"Yes, Nana Anti-Ember."

"Hmm…" Anti-Ember looked us over with a twinkle in her eye as she rubbed a knuckle along her lower lip. "Your words sound promising, but did anyone tell you about the secret test?"

We looked at each other. "What's the secret test, dame?" I asked.

She smiled in a mysterious sort of way, as though she knew the punchline to a hi _lari_ ous knock-knock joke. "I assume you bright minds all managed to pass your field assessment with soaring colours, but does what comes naturally to your instincts make logical sense in your tiny little minds? Who can explain to me what an umbra is?"

My hand snapped into the air alongside Mona's, while Electro beat his back and forth and Ashley hopped up and down. "Umbrae are culminations of leftover energy from magic that was used for the purpose of harming a living thing," Electro burst, dropping his hand to his side with a sharp slap. "This negative energy forms a clump in the magical energy field we breathe from, and it shall wreak horrific misfortune if left unchecked. Since we Anti-Fairies are creatures of good luck, it is only natural that we should be drawn to seek out and neutralise them as the universe attempts to balance herself again. As with all living things, whether they recognise this or not, she makes an attempt to achieve homeostasis: the point of perfect internal equilibrium."

Anti-Ember nodded. "Your words were said very well, Electro. And how does an Anti-Fairy neutralise an umbra?"

 _With a lot more effort and energy than we're credited for,_  I thought.

This time, Mona leapt to answer the question. "Umbrae are mostly magical misfits, meaning they may not be murdered magically. The most we can make manifest is mainly mincing most into many mingling misfortune midgets."

"Basically, we Anti-Fairies have to disperse an umbra's concentrated power into smaller pockets of bad luck," Ashley summed up. "When we do it right, the bad karma that affects innocent bystanders isn't as harmful as it otherwise could have been."

Anti-Ember ruffled his dark blue hair. "Why, aren't you a smart bump upon a tall yule log? Now, who knows the abilities that Tarrow granted to Anti-Fairies when he released our ancestors - his trusted scouts and faithful warriors - into the universe to chase and recapture the umbrae long ago?"

Hesitantly, I lowered my hand and hid it behind my back. Anti-Ember swung her attention on me anyway. Her lantern flickered. One of her eyebrows twitched up.

"Julius? You haven't answered one of my questions yet. Why don't you take this one?"

"Um…" I studied my feet. "Well. Let's see."

The silence between us stretched a little too long for my comfort. I poked my foot into a crack in the stone floor.

"Oh, erm… When Tarrow first designed the Aos Sí eons ago, he intended for them to walk the world with strong physiques. Over time, the Aos Sí, um… evolved into the people we call the Seelie Court today, or Fairies. A-and in order to balance the Seelie out, they were granted the powers of intelligence and energy field manipulation. Fairies specialise in long-range magic. So, ah… We Anti-Fairies are shadows of our Seelie counterparts, which is why we are classified as members of the Unseelie Court. Most often, we are lighter and smaller than the Fairies are, and so the magic we specialise to balance us out is combat magic, to be used at close range."

I looked up, tightening my fingers and trying not to focus on the sweat I swore I felt there despite my fur. "As the, er, umbrae are immune to physical attacks and can only be dispersed with magic, o-our ancient ancestors were tasked to track down, engage, and neutralise the umbrae in combat whenever their herds migrated through this corner of the cosmos. An honoured tradition that our people still carry on today every Friday the 13th."

I curled my toes, waiting in pained silence until Anti-Ember's face cracked with an understanding smile. I let the air out of my puffed cheeks in a whoosh.

"Indeed, Julius. Fine answers, all of you." Her attention shifted over my head. She craned her neck. "And it would seem that the High Count and Countess have arrived at last to distribute the results of your assessment."

Thank Tarrow for it too. Any more time pinned beneath four solid gazes, and my head would pop, I swear.

The others, and me, all turned to see Anti-Elina strolling down the stairs, her arms bulging with around three dozen tight scrolls. Despite her load, she managed to reach up and adjust one of the coloured stones that dangled in front of her eyes from the points of her crown. Squinting through the stone, she sized us up as she finished whatever conversation she was having with Anti-Bryndin, who floated quietly behind her. We pups shuffled aside to make room for them. As they waded through us, Anti-Ember reached out and caught Anti-Bryndin by the back of his coat collar. He squeaked, jolting his wings.

"And where is my baby boy rushing to without giving his mum a nice kiss?" she demanded.

Anti-Bryndin leaned his head away. His fingers crawled up to his shoulder, tentatively feeling for a way to disentangle his mum's worn claws from his shirt. His ears flattened. His eyes darted away. "I, ah-"

Anti-Ember cut him short with a disappointed click of her tongue. "Although I never ask to be the object you focus the entirety of your attention on, a moment of respect for your former High Countess is something I would appreciate. You, I think, were very slow to get the other Anti-Fairies through the portals this morning. But, even as a puppy, you always did prefer snoozes until afternoon. He is a late rooster, you know," she added to me.

I watched Anti-Bryndin's ear twitch. Privately, I did not blame him. Augustus was a late rooster, and Mother insisted it was the reason he'd turned out as goody-goody as he had. Perhaps Anti-Ember had no business revealing such hidden facets of Anti-Bryndin's childhood to our young, innocent ears? I pondered whether she might actually enjoy embarrassing her son publically on purpose, simply to regain some of the old control she'd wielded back when she held Anti-Elina's position…

"… and I did ask one of those loitreing damsels you left behind to take your pants up to your room while you were in the bath, munchkin. Anti-Florensa, I think her name is?"

Yep. Certainly on purpose. The other pups giggled and nudged each other as Anti-Bryndin covered his face with one arm, and Anti-Elina pretended to be very absorbed in her scrolls. Anti-Ember scoffed. She used the bottom end of her staff to untuck his pale shirt from his belt and lift it away. With her other hand, she poked him in the stomach.

"I know the cooks in this castle do not feed you too much. I am thinking that at night, you have been sneaking treats. Your belly is showing. But, your way of dressing makes you very cute."

Anti-Bryndin yanked the hem of his shirt down again. "Mamá, I am High Count of all Anti-Fairies. I am not 'cute'. I am an impressive grown man."

"You are a young man who is very handsome," she assured him. A lazy smile pushed through the wrinkles along her cheeks. "When are you bringing me grandchildren?"

"The decision to make that happen is not mine," he mumbled.

Anti-Elina stepped between the two of them, clutching one scroll in her fist and three more against her chest. "If I may, Dame Anti-Ember? We have scores to announce and the morning isn't getting younger."

Anti-Ember inclined her head. With that, Anti-Elina split half her scrolls with Anti-Bryndin. She placed a scroll in Ashley's hand, then Benjamin's, then Christine's, then Cody's, then Darrell's, then Electro's, then Harriet's. Each pup tore his or her scroll open the moment it touched their palm, chattering excitedly and exchanging giggle-filled hugs. They gathered in clusters of four, flapping their papers before Anti-Ember's eyes. As our High Count and Countess continued passing out scrolls, I watched from the corner of my right eye as Anti-Ember examined each scroll one by one with a great deal of fascination and praise. Then, four by four, she waved each group towards a portal door and requested the leader of each team seek instructions from the older Anti-Fairies who had already gone on ahead.

Anti-Elina handed a scroll to Kayla without looking at me. I tilted one of my ears down. She had been going in alphabetical order. She skipped "Julius."

Not wanting to be impolite, I shrank into my wings and said nothing as Anti-Elina finished passing scrolls out to Lola, Lucas, and Mona. I recalled that she wasn't as good with names and faces as Anti-Bryndin. Perhaps that was it. My name balanced on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't quite recall it, and she would circle around to me in the end. Mona squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers back, though it didn't lighten the churning of my stomach.

"Are you coming or what, bignose?" Electro demanded, tapping his foot. Ashley stood beside him, rubbing uncertainly behind his neck. I flicked my gaze towards Anti-Bryndin in time to see him hand his last scroll out to Zachary, whose anxious face brightened like moonlight the moment he read his score. Even Zachary had passed? He could hardly tell a hex from a charm. What use was the training arena if even pups like him were waved through without a second thought?

Anti-Elina's fingers tightened around one final scroll in her hand. The thin ribbon which tied it shut was pale blue like the Water year, and I had no doubt that it was mine. I straightened my wings.

"Dame Anti-Ember," she said, placing a hand across her stomach and offering a light bow. "Anti-Bryndin and I have already discussed it, and with your permission, we'd like to have Julius run the training course again."

Mona's hand unlinked from mine. She shot me a questioning glance. My throat closed over. Regardless, after only two sharp seconds of pause, I managed to lean forward in a bow that mirrored Anti-Elina's. "Yes, High Countess. I understand. Next Friday the 13th, I will present myself for assessing again. Thank you for the wonderful opportunity you saw fit to grant me."

Anti-Elina snapped her gaze over to me. I heard a flutter of sonar pass over my body from ears to toes, and the expression that crossed her face made me wonder if she'd remembered I was there in the corridor at all. Without replying, she turned to Anti-Ember again and cleared her throat. "Send the rest of his team on ahead. We want him to run it immediately. Alone this time." So saying, Anti-Elina pulled open my scroll and showed Anti-Ember what it said. A distinctive startled, sparkling, pinging sort of sound went off in the magical energy field around us as the older anti-fairy looked it over.

"Of course, darling," Anti-Ember murmured. Her ears swivelled in my direction. I looked at Mona and Ashley. They both shrugged.

"Come along, Julius," Anti-Elina called, already drifting back for the stairs. I hiked the belt of my wand sheath up higher and chased after her, clutching the hem of my robes.

"Esteemed High Countess?" I asked, straining my neck to look up at her. "May I ask to see the results on my scroll?"

"You may not." She clicked her teeth in a long, low chirp. "Are you coming along, rose thicket?"

Anti-Bryndin pricked his ears and tailed us up the stairs. I searched his face from below for any hint of comfort, but between my pounding blood and scrambling footsteps, the only sound I heard from him was silence.

The training arena lay across the courtyard, on the other side of the observatory. The grass and gravel had been trampled by centuries of feet, right up to its shiny door. Anti-Praxis sat outside in the grey dirt and smoke, chatting with another figure who hovered in front of him. I slowed my footsteps and tipped my head. Just to be sure, I chirped out another wave of sonar as I followed behind Anti-Elina and Anti-Bryndin.

The image that bounced back didn't make sense. The wings… the way the newcomer's wings beat at his back wasn't natural. Rather than flick and swirl, he swept his wings up and then angled them backward when they came down. And he had four of them. Four long, wispy wings with rounded tips.

A… fairy?

I'd never seen a fairy in real life before. He was an odd sort- he didn't even have fur. The man dressed in long white sleeves and a raspberry red vest, with his hair short, black, and slightly curly beneath the ears. A much younger damsel, only as old as Augustus - if that - stood off to the side with her hands tucked away in the pockets of her purple shirt. She tilted her head to mimic mine.

The older fairy sensed my approach and turned around. I flinched behind Anti-Elina's legs. The fairy noticed me anyway. His wings stilled. His shoes (He wore shoes) brushed the dirt.

"Esteemed High Count," he greeted, spreading all four of his wings as he bowed. "Esteemed High Countess. I'm the therapist from Wish Fixers you sent for. My daughter Emery is also with me."

The fairy damsel bowed too, though she left her hands in her pockets. Anti-Bryndin bobbed his head in reply, while I shot a glance up at Anti-Elina. What was this about?

She placed her hand on the back of my neck, maintaining eye contact with the newcomer instead of me. His blue eyes swivelled to face me, shielded by two tiny circles of glass embedded on sticks. "Julius Anti-Lunifly, I presume?"

I said nothing.

"He's shy," Anti-Elina explained, taking my arm. She pulled me out from behind her.

The fairy's face changed as he appraised me in full. I attempted to give him a closer look without being quite so obvious about it. I thought him rather small for a fairy, for I had heard a hundred stories over my lifetime describing the size and power of the muscle-headed brutes. They were the ones who didn't need combat magic, after all. Sure, this therapist fellow stood taller than both Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina when none of them were floating, but the man didn't look as though he could go toe to toe with a chupacabra if his shiny golden crown depended on it.

"My name is Ambrosine Whimsifinado," the fairy greeted me. He lowered his upturned hands to meet mine, never sinking so low that it felt like he had to crouch. I thought that was interesting, that he upturned his hands despite being Seelie, but I found myself enormously grateful for the familiarity. Looking back on it now, I'm not sure how I would have acted if he had held out his left hand for a shake as the Fairies typically do. I wouldn't have known what to do with it. When I placed my hands in his, he continued by saying, "I was asked in from Fairy World so I might observe your training assessment."

I recognised the Whimsifinado name instantly. While most of the Fairy nobility had contributed directly to the War of the Sunset Divide itself, providing clean food, water, clothing, and energy and the like to their precious foot soldiers, the Whimsifinados had strolled onto the field after tea time with King Cardinal and Queen Shoulath one day and struck the deciding blow. Their family had been the ones to pay for nearly three-quarters of the Barrier singlehanded. Ever since, we Anti-Fairies had been banished beneath the red skies of Hy-Brasil with our grand Bridges between the cloudlands and Earth destroyed, and our portals sealed shut. If not Ambrosine himself, then surely his parents must have done it. Mere pocket change for their bloodline, I suppose. My claws tightened around his fingers.

"Julius?"

"What?" My cheeks began to cool with embarrassment. Had I zoned out?

Ambrosine withdrew his hands and offered me a pat on the left shoulder and a knowing smile. "Don't be nervous. You've done nothing wrong, and I'm not here to judge you on how well you do in there. Just step inside and do whatever comes naturally."

My blood quickened in my veins. Don't be nervous? He wasn't here to judge me? Sure. That's why the High Count and Countess had hauled him all the way out here. To watch without judgement. At least I'd be good for a laugh.

"Y-yeah." I coughed into my hand, then started over again. "Yes, sir."

"It's fine," said Anti-Bryndin, half distracted by an orange snake passing by his foot. "You are fine."

"I'll go over the rules again," Anti-Elina decided. She clicked a dial on the arena door, changing the difficulty level of the simulation inside from advanced to somewhere above greenhorn. My ears quivered as assorted noises beeped and tweeted from within, powering up displays and adjusting aspects of the room. "Inside the arena, you will have one minute and thirteen seconds to examine your surroundings before the first quiver in the energy field is manipulated. You will face three umbrae in a row. Each one will manifest only once the other is properly neutralised, assuming that it is. Any technique used to dispose of them is fair game, though you are encouraged to be dignified."

I nodded, slowly. Anti-Elina nodded back. The glinting coloured rocks hanging in front of her eyes made it difficult to read her precise expression.

"Can I ask something?" Emery asked out of nowhere. We all looked at her, but to my surprise, she didn't shrivel away beneath our gazes. Instead, she looked between the faces of every adult. Her hands moved to her hips. "What exactly is an umbra? What do they do?"

Anti-Bryndin flicked one of his ears. "Grow big. Cause trouble. Eat much. Leave droppings."

Anti-Elina folded her arms. "Young Emery, do you know what happens when a Fairy uses magic?"

Emery blinked. "Uh… Energy from the magical energy field is turned into something else, like a wind current, or maybe a toy that you just wished up."

"And?"

"And…" Emery had to think hard for a moment before she came up with a satisfactory answer. "Oh! When we  _poof_  something up, it makes a big cloud of dust. That dust gets everywhere, and it fertilises the cloud vapour and grows grass or weeds and things."

Anti-Elina nodded, slowly. "When the magic is benign, yes. Precisely. However, magic used for a malevolent purpose doesn't create your pleasant wind currents or fertilise your plants. Instead, that leftover magic forms itself into an umbra. Nasty creatures of all shapes and sizes who feed on luck of all varieties, stealing good luck from those in need and dumping bad luck on those in poor circumstances. They prey on Anti-Fairies especially, which is why we teach our children how to defend against them from the time they are young. Unfortunately for us, umbrae do not seem to have much interest in chasing after Fairies. Something that has proved to be very inconvenient for Anti-Fairies during times of war." She looked directly at Ambrosine when she said it. Wisely, he did not respond.

"So, Anti-Fairies don't really cause bad luck, and it's just these umbra guys?"

"Now, Julius," said Anti-Elina, brushing past the question. "While it is preferable that you neutralise the umbrae as quickly as possible, you are not being officially graded on your speed, and the time taken to complete the simulation will not be held against you. Don't concern yourself about any damage inflicted on the room. The entire arena is enchanted and will reset itself once you leave the premises. Note, however, that it will not reset itself between umbrae. Plan accordingly. We will be observing you on this side. If you wish to end the assessment early, just shout for us. Are there any questions?"

"Um…" I licked my lips. "I-I'm running the entire simulation by myself this time, High Countess? Without Mona, Electro, and Ashley?"

"That is correct. Also, while not required, it may prove helpful for you to narrate your thoughts, to provide the most accurate assessment results. And of course, most importantly, don't swallow the umbrae." Anti-Elina pulled open the door, and a puff of white steam drifted out from the insides. I blinked at the warmth, and she motioned for me to step inside. I drew my wand and did as instructed.

Despite Anti-Elina's reassurance that I was merely repeating the training simulation I had undertaken earlier with the rest of my team, instead of stepping knee-deep into snow, I found myself stepping onto a thick, hairy white rug. Beneath it lay a floor of wooden planks. My eyes trailed over to the nearest wall. Navy blue wallpaper. Silver trim.

I'd never visited this bizarre room before, nor seen anything quite like it. It was some type of throne room, I imagine, for seven high-backed chairs with cushioned seats stood around me in a semicircle with their backs against the wall, and a coloured banner hung behind each chair. Each of the seven elements on our zodiac had been represented, even if it was merely in that small way. My fingers tightened around my wand. I studied my surroundings, sending out soft bursts of sonar, and I listened.

The magic flow throughout the room was distinctly off balance.

Deliberately, too. That much was so clear, a fairy could have picked up on it. I was supposed to take on umbrae in here? The room was small, only a dozen wingspans in diameter. Most importantly, it had been heavily decorated with elements intended to channel Sky energy, such as the oval rug on the floor, the wide urns filled with a substrate of cloudfluff instead of pebbles or peat, and the high ceiling that lacked any visible rafters to cling to. Doubtless, the fat pots which held tall bamboo, beanstalks, or other leafless plants had been sculpted from cloudland vapour instead of soil. Instead of ugly wall torches, whoever decorated this room chose to light it with uncovered candles - candelabras, really - that balanced and burned from most of the available desks and tables that were for whatever reason present in the strange room. The chairs all pointed towards the door where I stood instead of each other or another aspect of the room, creating the open-minded environment typically found in the Sky design style. To counteract the overwhelming unbalance in the room, the first umbra to manifest here would be bursting with Fire energy.

I wasn't the least bit surprised. This was the Summer of the Blistered Hog; a Fire year. Fire magic was full of passion and strength, and a fire umbra would be especially difficult to counter in a year when its element pumped through the energy field at an extreme high.

One of my ears rotated to one side. After a few seconds, the other mirrored it. Then I pricked them both forward. Softly, I inhaled through my nose, and released the air again. Facing a Fire umbra in a Fire year would place me at a distinct disadvantage. As I did not want to be cornered into that predicament, I would just have to make a few minor changes to the room. And quickly, too. My minute and thirteen seconds of adjustment time were rapidly ticking away.

What were my options? Well. Bad luck released into a perfectly balanced room would manifest a Love umbra. Not a particularly desirable opponent, and especially on a Friday, and  _especially_  on a Friday the 13th when Dayfry's influence on the energy field burst at the seams almost as much as Saturn's did. Shifting a Sky room into Water wouldn't take all that much effort, since they were both blue and all, but then the umbra which manifested first would be Soil.

But, Soil umbrae tended to be massive forces of brute strength which charged blindly while you frantically attempted to pierce their thick, armoured hide to no avail. Soil umbrae were meant to be confronted outdoors, beside rivers and lakes or in snowy forests, where you were less likely to be accused of causing property damage. You didn't fight Soil umbrae in small rooms full of elegant, fragile objects.

Anyway, a Soil umbrae in a Water room would be balanced in it, whereas I, a Water, was likely to become clumsy and overwhelmed. What else? Breath energy went hand in hand with communication and thoughtfulness, neither of which would be particularly of use to me were I to face a Leaves umbra in a Breath room…

Decisions, decisions. I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed the top of my head with the claws on both hands, messing up my ever-scruffy hair. Ugh. Why did magic have to be such a convoluted thing, even in modern times? Weren't we supposed to have wands to do everything for us? Perhaps I wouldn't have much enjoyed the olden days of potions and incantations after all.

I lowered my hands and sighed towards the ceiling. I was certain nearly half the time I had before the first umbra showed had already drained away. Unable to make a confident decision as to which type of umbra I would best match up against, I decided to randomly select an element that my team and I hadn't already faced during our training assessment earlier that morning: Breath.

In general, Breath was an element on the zodiac intended to strengthen one's intelligence rather than their physical strength, so logically, a Breath umbra would embody brains over brawn in a similar fashion. The room wasn't that big, so I wasn't likely to lose track of it as I might were I facing it in the snowy forest from earlier today.

An umbra would manifest with Breath energy in a room skewed towards Leaves energy. So of course, the first thing I did was twirl my wand and change the bamboo and vines in their large urns into enormous spidery houseplants with thin, curling leaves that dangled down towards the floor. A faint shift in the energy field confirmed I had been successful. I now stood in a room that mainly channelled Sky energy with a slight tug towards Leaves. I had to keep going.

Next, I walked straight over to the big, circular glass coffee table on my left and studied the puzzle that had been laid out there. Not only was it completed, but it showed a white bird soaring across the open ocean. An albatross, sacred animal of Munn, the nature spirit of Sky? Undoubtedly.

I removed a single piece from somewhere in the middle and carefully placed it near the upper left corner of the puzzle. That's where the Leaves symbol fell on every image of the circular zodiac I'd ever seen. The candles next. "Duck and hide, it's cold outside," I muttered, and glass bell jars appeared to cover all but the candles' bottoms, preventing the fire from pointing upwards towards the ceiling. Then I kicked the rug so the enormous circle folded in on itself in a semicircle. Hmm. What else?

My eyes slid over to the seven chairs staring stoically at the door, and the seven banners on the wall behind them. Of course. With a flick of my wand as I hurried over, I turned four of the chairs in on each other, and matched the remaining three up as well. Had all the chairs faced each other, that would have created an environment which encouraged much communication, perfect for Breath energy. Having two separate groups of seats broke the chain and diverted that energy into Leaves instead. As the final chair slid itself into place, I jumped, sprang off its seat, and shredded the Sky banner in two with a single swipe of my claws.

With the banner damaged, the Sky energy in the room began fading faster. No longer able to properly balance its opposite, Fire, the latter energy crashed into the room with full force. But as it flowed in, it was met with resistance. Gentle Leaves energy had already made this place its home. I closed my eyes and let them sing together.

Adding rafters to the room, changing the colour of the walls from navy to green, or turning the coffee table from glass to wood lay outside the scope of my young abilities for now. This would have to do. My time was up. I knew that when a large cardboard cutout of a black cat materialised from a thin slit in the wall and streaked across the floor. Clumps of black fur had been taped to its back, and I could sense the animal attracting negative energy like static as it raced along its path to another slit on the other side of the arena.

I picked up the sound of gears grinding above the ceiling. Umbrae manifested naturally in nature when summoned from the darker corners of the universe, but for the purposes of this cardboard simulation, a previously captured and bred umbra would have to do. From my place between the backs of two chairs, I steadied my wand. A hatch opened above the coffee table, and a writhing mass of energy dropped down. Invisible to my naked eyes, I could pick it up only from my sonar and the squealing sound of panic it emitted into the energy field.

It was a Breath umbra, all right. I tested its shape as it turned circles and zig-zagged from one end of the table to the other. Each picture that flew back to my brain with echolocation showed it crouching low and small. With its tall ears and stunted tail, it looked like a rabbit with tentacles instead of legs.

I continued to point my wand at it, watching its movements with my ears. The umbra nosed its way along the coffee table and jumped down to the floor. I adjusted my wand to continue pointing at it. Unconcerned, it paused, twitched its ears, then used its tentacles to pull itself over to the place where the black cat had been. It began to gnaw at the metaphysical trail of energy that the cardboard cutout had left behind. I waited for it to do something threatening.

A long thirty seconds passed. The umbra continued to munch contentedly on the energy in the air. I could hear the crackle of electricity quite clearly, and as I blinked and squinted, I could make out some sort of… ripple there, as though the creature were gradually becoming...

Solid? Could umbrae do that if you left them alone long enough?

I threw a glance towards the entrance of the arena. I knew my observers could see me, but I wished I could see them. My fur prickled toasty hot inside my clothes. What were they saying about me? Would Anti-Elina be embarrassed by my slowness? Would Anti-Bryndin be angry?

But I…

It wasn't being at all aggressive yet, I mean…

I lowered my wand. Instead, I stepped out from behind the chairs and lowered myself into a crouch. "Don't be frightened, little fellow," I murmured. Keeping my fist around my wand, I crawled a little closer to the gentle umbra. It was definitely becoming more solid the more energy it ate- I could see its blurry outline without my sonar, which was fortunate since I intended to speak while crawling over, and you couldn't very well manage both at once. I sighed. "Poor little bugger. You aren't wild like the others, are you? They bred you and tamed you, and you're just as soft and sweet as a marshma-"

The umbra whirled on my outstretched hand. I fell back, banging my elbow on the coffee table's edge. My vision went hazy for a split second there. Did the scoundrel just bite me? It tried to bite me! Had it bitten me? Their bites were said to transfer karma directly, and I couldn't afford to be inflicted with a plague of bad luck right now. I tried to glance down at my fingertips, but the umbra interrupted by hurling itself into my lap with a ferocious squeal. Its big front teeth closed over my shirt. So much for camouflage.

I thrashed hard enough to knock the creature away, then kicked it across the room. It rolled towards a nearby desk. I muttered an old incantation under my breath. Before the umbra could stand, I plunged my wand forward in the air, twisted it sideways, and yanked back. The umbra flew towards me as though hooked on a chain. I caught it in my fist and squeezed its neck as it screamed. Tentacles coiled around my hand. Unable to flee, the umbra turned its pleading gaze upward. Even though it was still invisible, I could tell that much.

I hesitated, then averted my eyes. "Don't look at me like that."

Still clutching the animal in my fist, I flipped my wand around in my free hand so the end with the star cap pointed towards me. Then I pressed a switch halfway down the handle. A two-inch knife folded out from the side. The blade was a little dull, worn down by use from past owners and from bored nights spent rubbing it against branches and stone floors. But, it did its job. When I sliced the knife across the umbra's neck, it burst into invisible sparkles I preferred to think of as confetti. One down, two to go.

Before the next umbra appeared, I guided my wand through what remained of the first one. The energy field was tangled now, tensed into knots. I pried the metaphysical threads loose with my wand and shook them out. The released energy had to go somewhere, so I channelled it into the wooden desk. One of its legs creaked, then gave out beneath it. Flickers of magic in the air warned me the room was bordering on Sky energy again.

The second umbra seemed to be a lizard. Its head looked porcine, but I didn't get a good read on it before it darted across the floor. As I searched for it with ping after ping of sonar, the umbra leapt onto the table. It knocked the entire albatross puzzle to the ground with a sweep of its spiraled tail. The puzzle burst pieces in all directions, scattering the Leaves energy I'd set up there, and my eyes flew wide. "Wait!"

No time for that now. The umbra appeared to be a lot of things, but "friendly" wasn't one of them. I lashed my wand, releasing a miniature whirlwind that spun the reptile to the ground. Following this, I  _foop_ ed a floating boot into existence and, twisting my wand, kicked the lizard-pig from afar in its bottom end. It shrieked the sound of wedding bells. The cold noise jarred my fangs to the roots. Holding up the hems of my robes, I ran towards it, shooting globs of water from the end of my wand. It scrambled away, racing through the tube-like passageway made by the folded rug. I tripped on the end and went sprawling. The rug unrolled- taking me with it. Yelping, I flopped on my back with the carpet's tough underside on top of me.

"Get back here, you repulsive rascal!"

I crawled out from beneath the rug and aimed a wild fireball at the umbra, who had scurried towards the corner. The flame careened past the lizard-pig, clipped its horns, and sent it face-planting into the floor. The umbra wailed. The fireball hit the wall and died out in a burst of sparks. Shoving myself up to my feet, claws catching on my robes, I ran over and aimed my wand at the frightened little thing. It curled into a ball, defending its face with the measly spikes on its back and tail. At the sight of its cowering before me - me! - my shoulders relaxed. I held the power here. I couldn't resist just a soft chuckle.

"Final words?" I demanded, grinning at my own joke.

The lizard-pig chirped and whined in the back of its throat, hunkering deeper into the corner. I pointed my wand and muttered the incantation for a hefty blast. However, instead of firing, my solid wand turned goopy in my hand. It drooped like a stalk of celery.

"Oh, not now." I slapped the back of my wand with the heel of my hand. A blue spark flew out the tip. "Come on, you worthless piece of… Never mind."

I finished the thing off with my knife instead. After casting the negative energy into the nearest potted spider plant and causing the urn to crack and spill substrate to the floor, I sat back on my heels to wipe my brow. "Good smoke, I daresay I could use a spot of tea before too long."

Midway through standing, I froze. Both my ears swivelled backwards in opposite directions. The third umbra had already formed behind me. And all the Sky energy swirling in the air around me meant it would have manifested as a…

"Fire."

My hand shook. I pressed it against my knee. A Fire umbra in a Fire year, in an enclosed space. Drat it all. Speed? Bordering on the higher end. Defences? Low if I was, well, lucky. Attacking strength? Undoubtedly off the charts.

I turned, still crouched, clenching my wand with the knife end bared. Between me and the coffee table stood a lithe, furry…  _thing_. Its sloped snout and dorsal fin suggested it could be a shark, although the four powerful legs argued otherwise. It waved its long tail low over the floor, searching the room with eyes like little beads. Or so I assumed. It was, after all, still invisible, and my sonar couldn't get a read on everything. My jaw slackened momentarily, then flew up into a great big grin.

"Oh, my! Well now, aren't you a rightful beauty? Just look at that coat and the quirk in your tail." I chuckled and flipped my wand at the brute, standing fully now. "You know, I don't say this to just any umbra, but you are simply gorgeous. Oh, yes you are."

The umbra pulled itself into a crouch as it backed away. It arched its back and bore its teeth. The growl it made was on par with the shriek of an unsuspecting creature who'd just stubbed his toe against a brick wall. My ears picked up the ripple of furry muscles and the unsheathing of retractable claws.

I swallowed my apprehension. Slowly, I pointed my wand at the ground behind me. "Easy does it. There, there… It's quite all right. I shan't hurt you in cold blood like this." I eased a step forward, stretching my hand towards the umbra's forehead. It flinched away, snarling again. The tail lashed, passing straight through the coffee table and reforming again as it came out the other side. I raised my eyebrow. "Steady now. Soft… gentle… I shan't hurt you, see?"

The umbra lunged forward, snapping its jaws around my arm. Sadly, I had fully anticipated this reaction, and was prepared. I  _foop_ ed myself several paces backward. Just as the smoke left over from my magic began to clear, I picked up a large shape barrelling towards me. I ducked to the left, pressing my back against the wall, as the umbra skidded straight through the place where I had stood. Its teeth crashed together again as though grabbing me between them. Talons skidded across the wooden floor, threatening to gouge it. The shark-leopard creature swung its head rapidly back and forth, shaking something imaginary between its jaws. I gulped a second time.

"I hate to do this to a beast so enrapturing, you know," I said, readying my wand. The tip flared electric blue and crackled with lightning at my fingertips. "But sadly, I must say to you, adieu."

The umbra realised that it had missed me and looked up. When it opened its mouth to roar, I flung out my arm and shouted, "Hold nothing back and never will I fall!"

 _Crack_ , went the wand in my hand. A beam of hot indigo energy exploded from the tip. The sheer force of the magic flung me down, but I managed to catch sight of the umbra staggering once, twice, before tipping over on its side. Snatching up my fallen wand, I raced over and delivered another blow to the animal's soft underbelly. I couldn't miss-

… I missed.

The umbra swung its tail in my direction, flipping my feet out from under me. My chin smacked the coffee table. Just as I was standing again, the umbra stood and whipped in a circle. Its tail caught me on the second pass too, slashing too near my neck for comfort. The fur wasn't nearly as soft as I'd anticipated, but bristling with scales. I swore it sliced open my cheek.

Diving away as the umbra turned, I rolled to my feet with wand in hand. My eyes darted from the table to the chairs to the plants and desks around us. What was there to use? Was there anything to use?

In a fluid movement, the umbra slid into a crouch and launched itself at the nearest wall. I whipped my head to follow it, throwing out a burst of sonar. It rebounded with feline grace and fell towards me, claws outstretched. I moved to fling up some sort of shield, but I couldn't remember the incantation and my focus was shaking so much-

The umbra passed harmlessly through me and landed on the floor. I blinked at nothingness, still clutching my wand.

"What?"

I touched my chest, searching for any kind of mark. My fingers came away dry. I wasn't even bleeding. Behind me, the umbra snarled, ready for another go.

"The camouflage," I murmured. "It's enchanted so I don't get hurt."

I stared a brief second at the wall, unsure how I felt about that. It… This was only a training course, but if I wore clothing that prevented me from being seriously injured, I felt almost as though I were…

… cheating.

I turned around as the umbra flew at me again, likewise passing through my being without leaving a scratch. That was hardly fun, now was it?

I took my wand and flung a few random blasts at the umbra to throw it back. It struggled up a few times, glowering at me, but I kept up the attacks regardless of the flashing teeth and claws. When I had a clear shot for my knife, I brought it down with a few sharp swipes. The blade found a chink behind the shark-leopard's neck, and the umbra burst.

I wiped my face with the back of my wrist again, then went about directing the floating bad luck in the room into assorted objects that would keep it grounded. First a pillow that received a tear, then a flower vase that cracked and began to leak, and finally the fallen puzzle, which gradually began to warp from moisture in the air so the pieces didn't fit together quite right.

Well, that was the last of them. After sheathing my wand, I dusted off my hands and left the arena through the door. Anti-Praxis, Anti-Bryndin, Anti-Elina, and Ambrosine stood in a line, watching me with assorted expressions of uncertainty. I slowed my pace, but didn't have time to dwell on it for long. Emery balled her hands into fists.

"That is incredible! How do you fight monsters that are invisible, huh? How do you do that?"

I blinked. "Um…"

Ambrosine placed his hand on her shoulder. "Sweetie, remember that they  _are_  Anti-Fairies. With their ears, they can hear even farther than we Fairies can magically sense."

Emery nodded enthusiastically, but focused her attention on me again. "That was nifty. You looked like a knight in camouflage armour."

Even though she was a fairy, and not even one I knew well, her praise quietly warmed my insides. I shrugged and ran my claws through the back of my hair, where it was starting to grow long enough to tangle. "Well, in all fairness, I only make it look easy because I know exactly what I'm doing. And, Anti-Elina only had the arena set to easy mode."

Still, Emery bumped my shoulder with her wing. "Don't be modest. That looked like fun! And also really hard, but you did great. You were dazzling."

"Was I now?" I considered her words. Perhaps a  _little_  bit of bragging was well deserved. My lips quirked up in a half-smile at one corner. I straightened my wings. "Yes, I suppose I did do a fine job there at the end, didn't I?"

Ambrosine glanced at Anti-Elina and, once she had waved her hand to signal permission, extended his arm towards me. "May I examine your wand, Julius?"

With only a gram of hesitation, I handed it over. My training wand was a simple thing- an old hand-me-down a bit chipped and worn from decades, if not centuries, of use. But, it served its purpose, and apart from a few incidents, I found that it worked rather well when I wanted it to.

"Hmm…" Ambrosine rubbed his thumb along the star cap, though he didn't untwist it from the shaft. I watched his forehead crease. The tip of his tongue poked out between his lips, but after a moment, he pulled it in again. He returned the wand to me, and shook his head at Anti-Elina. She raised one eyebrow, and motioned to it with a finger.

"So it's not…?"

"It's just a standard piece."

"I thought as much. Curious. Julius, please wait over here with Fairy-Emery while we calculate the results."

I bowed, feeling the insides of my stomach pinch together. "Of course, High Countess."

Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina trailed across the courtyard, with Ambrosine following them, and Anti-Praxis following behind him. With a grunt, I plopped down on a stone jutting from the ground and stuck my fists on my cheeks. Whatever the results of this assessment were, judging from the reactions of the adults, I didn't expect them to come back terribly pretty.

I wondered what Mona was doing right about now. She must be out in Fairy World someplace, bouncing about with Electro being snide and bossy in front of her and Ashley being an annoying worrywort behind. Or perhaps down on Earth, for the first time experiencing the wonders of its weather and beaches in a way I'd privately longed to since my younger days. I hoped they were treating her well, wherever they were. I hoped they weren't talking about me.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" Emery asked, perching her elbows on the rock beside me. She didn't stop beating her wings, choosing instead to float in place despite that being, as I saw it, an incredible waste of essential energy.

I scowled in reply, furrowing my brow. "I haven't the foggiest. You must remember, we anticipate eavesdroppers in Anti-Fairy World. They've moved far enough away so I can't even hear their whispers." For another moment, I stared sulkily in the general direction of the four adults. Then I turned to Emery. "What do they look like?"

She blinked. "Huh?"

"You Fairies can see hand gestures and facial expressions from afar, can't you? All I see are vague blobby forms, and I can hardly tell which one is who. What are they doing?"

"Well…" Emery leaned forward. "Anti-Bryndin looks really upset about something."

"Really now?" I rubbed my chin.

"Yep. His hands are folded behind his head, and I can see his mouth running at a cloudlength a second."

I frowned. "What does that mean? Folding hands behind his head? Is that a sign for of surrender, or to show he has no weapons on him or something?"

"It means he's annoyed about something," Emery explained. "You know, like… body language. My dad's teaching me how to read body language for when I grow up to study psychology and be a therapist like him."

I stared across the courtyard, trying to sort out the results of my echolocation. "What's Anti-Elina doing, then?"

Emery was quiet for a moment, tapping a soft rhythm out on the rock with her fingers. "I dunno. She seems excited, but also mad."

"What, two emotions at the same time?"

"She's excited, but… I think she's mad because Anti-Bryndin's mad. She wants something to happen, and she wants everyone else to agree with her, but he keeps telling her no, and I guess explaining all the reasons why not."

"Huh."

For a moment more we stayed that way, our chins perched on our fists as we both watched the distant figures in our individual ways. After several minutes of this, Emery looked at me again, and made claws with her hands. "Hey, I should tell my dad to tell those Anti-Fairies to let me do that thing you were doing."

"What?"

"That training arena stuff. You guys shoulda tested me in there. I'll bet I could track the umbrae with my Fairy senses. I can sense things I can't see too, you know."

"No!" I grabbed her wrist and twisted it down. When Emery jerked back, her mouth pressed into an 'O' of surprise, I forced her to hold my stare. "Anti-Elina says umbrae are most certainly not pets, nor playthings, nor tame creatures by any stretch of the imagination. Fairies may not normally be on their diet, but if you were to go up against them in there, they would target you, and you aren't trained to fight them like we are. They. Would. Kill. You. You and anyone else who distracts them from their business. Have you got that?"

Emery swallowed. "Got it."

I stared at her, willing her to understand. Umbrae were dangerous, after all. Or at least, that's what everyone always told me.

More silence. Emery cocked her head. "Hey. Is it true what the Alien merchants say, that anti-fairy tongues are good luck?"

"Tongues?" I wrinkled my nose. "I say. Every part of an anti-fairy is lucky in its way."

She frowned. "Oh. But if you guys are good luck, then… Why'd the Fairies lock you guys up in Anti-Fairy World after the war?"

My eye twitched of its own accord. I grit my fangs. "Because, the Fairies don't understand the basic principle of Zodii teachings. My people are not jinxes. We're simply Fairykind, just like yours. There's nothing wrong with that."

Emery puffed her chest with self-importance. "That's not what my dad says. My dad says Anti-Fairies are nothing but trouble."

My ears folded back. "Well, I don't know if-"

"He says you guys invented a bunch of math that makes it look like you're good luck, but anyone can twist things around to make excuses for their actions if they try hard enough."

I slapped myself in the forehead. Leave it to a fairy to butcher our reputations that way. "Oh, for Rhoswen's sake. It's like this.  _Mm-mm_. A long, long time ago, the entirety of the universe was running smoothly, and that's how the trouble all started. You see, the nature spirits controlled hundreds of planets in hundreds of galaxies, but none of the races who lived on them could utilise these planets to their full potential. The nature spirits hated to see their beautiful creations waste away. So, Tarrow turned his attention on some creatures called the Aos Sí. With their tough skins, thin pelts, six arms to fight with, and six eyes to watch for danger, they were advised to colonise the universe, aided by a very powerful magic called core magic. And for many years, the Aos Sí colonised every planet they could find."

"Elphame," Emery murmured.

"What?"

She started, her wings flicking up. "Nothing. Just, Elphame. It was the Old Kingdom, ruled over by Queen Ercel and King Christsonday a long time ago, before the Fairy World colony was founded. It's nothing."

Those names were not familiar to me. I eyed her as I said, "But, the more the Aos Sí bred with each other, the more magic was lost through the generations. In the end, they evolved into the creature which we know today as the Seelie Court, or Fairies. These Fairies now utilise a power known as starpiece magic, because it requires some sort of medium, like one of our star-capped wands, in order to function properly. Although even then, starpiece magic isn't anywhere near the abilities the Aos Sí were able to wield barehanded."

"No, that's not how my dad says it happened," Emery interrupted. I jolted and glared at her, and she crossed her arms at me. "My dad says the Aos Sí were beings that were Fairy, Anti-Fairy, and Fairy Refracts combined into one creature. When an Aos Sí was close to dying and panicked, they separated into three creatures: a Fairy, an Anti-Fairy, and a Refract. Then the three parts would escape."

"They… separated. A solid, living creature separated into three smaller creatures. Really?"

"Yeah. It's magic. And when we and our Anti-Fairy and Refract counterparts die, we'll become one creature in the afterlife again. It's called the Daoine form. My dad says so, and he knows everything."

I tried to decide where to start with that one. After a brief ten seconds of thought, I stated, "Rubbish. Over the ages, the Aos Sí evolved into Fairies in a natural manner. We bat-like Anti-Fairies are separate entities from you, and so are the bird-like Refracted. May I finish what I was trying to tell you?"

Emery looked as though she wanted to argue with me, but she buttoned her lip and made herself more comfortable in the thin grass instead. She didn't unfold her arms.

"Now, as the Aos Sí lost their magic across generations, that leftover magic formed itself into constructs of smoke and shadow. These were called the Unseelie Court, and like shadows, they took on vague likenesses of the very beings they would have belonged to otherwise, being literal embodiments of magic and all."

I smiled at the memory of the stories I'd been read while lying in my crib, or roosting from my perch beside Mona over the course of this last year and a half. "Oh, yes. In those ancient times, my people were wild faefolk. Some took on feline forms and took to defending your ancestors' fields from small pests. Some became canines, praised as protectors of the herds. Always we acted as spirit guides to our chosen member of your race, which earned us the nickname Guardian counterparts. Alongside our Seelie hosts, we multiplied."

I hadn't realised that I'd closed my eyes while speaking, but suddenly I opened them again, and looked over at Emery. "Say, don't you Fairies change forms you shapeshift into more often than a von Strangle changes socks?"

Something about my tone must have caused her some embarrassment, for the energy field tweaked around us. Instead of unconsciously releasing constant, bored, "whistling wind through the honeywheat fields" sounds into the energy field, Emery suddenly began to emit quicker beating taps like rain upon the rooftops. She fidgeted her wings. "Uh… Changing shape to match your mood is one way, um, other Fairies communicate sometimes, but my family doesn't believe in pointless shapeshifting. My dad says we're only supposed to shapeshift for a useful purpose. The cost of magic has been going up lately, and my dad says that Whimsifinados don't waste."

That's how they made their fortune, I suppose.

"Hmm." I flicked a dismissive ear. "Well, as I understand it, Fairies think themselves the masters of every form they choose to take on, whether it be vegetable, animal, or mineral. In Anti-Fairy culture, we are asked to honour our ancestors. As they took the forms of guardian spirits long ago, so we do today, by choosing merely one animal form to master every last detail of. My mother, not my father, passed along her surname: Anti-Lunifly. So, you see, it is expected that the one form I learn to take is that of the animal honoured by the Anti-Lunifly line. Which, of course, is the fox. Since the dawn of surnames, all my Anti-Lunifly ancestors have turned into foxes, and so shall I."

Emery studied me with vague interest. "So, you're really, really good at shapeshifting into foxes then, huh?"

I paused. My eyes flickered over to the adults still across the courtyard, then back to Emery again. "Um. Well, not yet, no… See, my Zodii education and Friday the 13th training came first. I won't be able to shapeshift until I'm older."

"Oh. That's too bad. I can do a dragonfly, a frog, a rabbit, a chickadee, a small cat, a big cat, a small dog, a big dog, a kelpie, a porcupine, a butterfly, another dog, three kinds of fish-"

How very nice. For politeness' sake, I did not ask her what she expected the spirits thought of her slipping in and out of so many forms that were not her own. How disgustingly ungrateful, like dipping a single crisp in five different dips at a party, or dipping a dirty quill in a pot of white ink. But, I had been told that this was simply how Fairies were. They skimmed the surface of so many different types of magic without ever taking the time to delve deeper and take what they learned to heart. Perhaps that's typical of a society consisting of so many creatures bearing evidence of dragonflies in their wings.

"Anyway," I sighed. "You asked whether Anti-Fairies are considered good luck. Truthfully, the answer is complicated. You see, the core principle of Zodiism is, opposites attract and like repels like. Like, um…" I pricked my ears. "I know. The stairs which lead from the main floor of the Castle down to the basement. They're chiselled out of shiny black stone. Like repels like, and being a negative colour, black stairs prevent negative energy from travelling between the floors. Black is a highly preferred colour when it comes to decorating corridors, entryways, and staircases, you see."

Emery scratched her cheek. "Oh. So, for Anti-Fairies, black is actually considered lucky?"

"Well, now you've just gone and ruined it. See here, Zodiism is a tricky thing to master, darling, in that its principles of luckiness only hold so long as you believe in them. Opposites attract, as I said. The moment you go around ascribing luckiness to an object, it sucks positive energy from the world around it, draining it all and leaving its surroundings unprotected." As I spoke, I bent down to pick a pebble from the ground to use as a demonstration. "However, that positive energy within the lucky charm then begins attracting negative energy until you knock it against something made of wood. After which, the positive energy held within the charm disperses into the air, opening a hole which is then to be filled by the more dominant supply of energy in the area. For better or worse. Do you see?"

I thought it was a very sound explanation, but Emery looked at me as though I'd just had my head bitten off by a chimera. "So good luck charms are actually  _bad_  luck charms," she checked. "Because they attract bad luck."

"Ach." I rolled my eyes. "Well, you're half right, so half your credit is fairly deserved. But you still misunderstand the most basic principle."

"Which is?"

"Balance, my dear." Dropping the pebble, I pinched the tips of my forefingers and thumbs together to make circles and held them in front of my chest, my middle and pinky fingers extended. "The universe is constantly shifting nearer and farther from its natural homeostasis point, or its point of perfect balance. Zodiism is the theory stating that when you deliberately place yourself in a stressful situation or in harm's way, not only will you not be severely injured by the event, but you will, in fact, even benefit from the encounter. Perhaps during your time spent healing from minor injury, you may learn a lesson of humility- or perhaps you will discover that your caretaker or a fellow patient is a fair friend or, yes, even your soulmate."

"That's possible, I suppose…"

"Suppose? Ha!" I tossed back my head, my bangs sweeping over my eye. "We Zodii do not believe in 'possible' so much as we believe in  _probable_. It is, in fact, extremely likely for such an encounter to occur after willingly placing yourself in a stressful event like that! Why is this so? Because high risk results in high reward, you see, and good karma will soon be flowing your way. It's homeostasis, Emery; simple regression towards the mean. Anti-Fairies are simultaneously just as lucky as they are unlucky, adjusting to balance the flow of luck in a variety of contexts as they flit about the world." Just to irritate her before she could hit me with any of that 'My daddy said' stuff, I added, "Basic psychology."

I could hear her teeth clenching inside her mouth. When she continued to steam without retorting, I deflated my shoulders with a sigh.

"What I mean to say is, luck is a predictable concept with unpredictable results. According to Zodii traditions, there's no such thing as an accident. Only what was fated to happen, and what must be. Like when I confronted that Fire umbra in the arena a moment ago. My understanding is that a Fairy placed in a high-stress situation will automatically  _poof_  away from the immediate line of danger, and perhaps strike her attacker upon reforming. You're a very simple people whose battle techniques are limited to whaling on an enemy until it collapses from sheer exhaustion. Against a thick-skinned enemy like the one I faced, your techniques would be helpless, as you would run out of energy long before you managed to pierce such a monster's skin." I waved my hand for emphasis. "Fairy magic is spontaneous and powerful, understand, but Anti-Fairy magic is about technique and creative energy. Manipulating your environment to win you the best advantage in a fight. Brains, skill, and luck can overcome simple brawn any day. Karma flow is living poetry, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Emery murmured, evidently lost in thought. I angled my ears her way.

"What are you thinking about now, darling?"

"About those umbrae, and that stuff you did."

"What about them?"

"You Anti-Fairies… you guys say that you don't  _cause_  bad luck, so much as disperse it. Right? When you hex someone. All that stuff about breaking mothers' backs or bringing about plagues." Emery leaned forward so she could try to see my frozen face. "The bad luck energy can't be physically destroyed, so you Anti-Fairies just spread it thinner so when it does hit, it won't hit as hard as it would if an umbra were in control of it. Right? You don't really mean to do those bad things. You don't want to hurt anybody. Right?"

My mouth dried. I looked away, too quickly.

"Have you ever hurt anyone on purpose?" Emery asked in a soft and serious voice.

I stared across the courtyard, willing the adults to come back over right  _now_. Amazingly, they did begin to trail back our way, but not quickly enough. Emery was still staring at me with that accusatory look, and if I let her, she would take my guilty silence for an answer.

"Have you ever knocked over a larger child's block tower?" I asked, tightening my claws into my legs. "Or kicked sand in a bully's face? Or dodged a punishment by casting your transgressions on your older brother? Or gotten your own mum accused of domestic abuse and at risk of being thrown out on the streets without half a second of thought? I daresay causing bad luck feels like that. When…" I had to try hard to remember the words I'd been taught to use. "When you grow up with this stuff… You learn to love it. It's not so bad, it's… It's funny, you know? It's vindication. It's… it's catharsis. Our people aren't bad, we're just… We're just different. From you. We're not bad. We're just a little mischievous from time to time. We're just having fun, really."

"You're a sick little drake, kid."

A single, utterly intelligent response popped into my brilliant five-year-old brain right about then. I pulled my bangs down over my eyes. "Leave me alone."

Emery stood and trotted over to Ambrosine as the adults closed in around me. I looked up to find Anti-Elina hovering a pace away. She held an unravelled scroll in her fist, though she didn't offer it to me. I hopped to my feet, brushing grit from my black and blue robes.

"Julius, we've returned with your results."

I swallowed. "Yes, High Countess."

Multiple worms of thought began to writhe in my brain. Why, exactly, had I been asked to run the assessment again solo? Did this have anything to do with them finding out Mona wasn't my true soulmate? That didn't seem relevant at this time. Mother hadn't injured me for awhile, and I hadn't cheated in any way during our teamwork test- which, by the way, I saw no point in doing, seeing as I was already collaborating with three other intelligent people.

Was it because they knew I liked… that I didn't want to… that I thought…?

I did not look at Ambrosine, therapist brought in from the opposite side of the cloudlands. I did not look at Emery, clinging self-righteously to his hand. I did not look at Anti-Bryndin, stiff and begrudging in the background. I did not look at anyone but Anti-Elina. Who was smiling at me. Why was she smiling at me?

Anti-Elina placed her hand to my shoulder. Her soft fingers tightened around my bones. "Julius, you are an incredibly gifted child. When we saw you attempting to lure those umbrae in there into a false sense of security by making them think you actually desired to befriend them? Absolute genius, especially at your age."

"O-oh?"

"Your brilliant memory, quick thinking, devotion to the zodiac, and interest in politics have attracted the camarilla's attention for some time. Ambrosine is a mind and magic therapist, and we brought him here to confirm our suspicions."

"Yes?" My chest swelled. What exactly was going on here? Might Anti-Elina be saying what I thought she was saying? She'd complimented me on my quick thinking and my brains, and even cited my budding interest in the structure of our society. Did she intend to suggest I train beneath Anti-Dakota and Anti-Irica so I could claim the Seat of Water on her camarilla court someday? Was she allowed to offer that sort of special, childhood training? I didn't see why not.

Or did Anti-Elina have something even more special in mind? What if… she suggested I trained beneath Anti-Buster to become First General someday! Ohh, now there was an idea! It would never happen on my smoke, of course, but it was an entertaining concept to toy with.

"Anti-Bryndin and I have been talking, Julius, and we've decided your talents are wasted on basic field work. We want you to train as a homeostasis specialist. Specifically, we think you have what it takes to be an architect."

My dreams of ever holding a position on the camarilla shattered like chunks of urn. I blinked. "What? No!" I took a step back and bumped into the rock where I'd been sitting beside Emery just a moment ago, when everything was similar. "You want me to- to become one of those stuffy old folk with the white beards and the tall staffs who consider their weekend fun to be measuring the length of windows, or who are called out to fix the plumbing in Fairy World's shantyhouses all the time? Living off the land with their little tents and satchels of herbs, surviving off the scraps I manage to beg from sympathetic families? I- I-" I grabbed my crown with both hands, my eyes bulging. "I don't want to design boring plans for boring people every boring day for the rest of my life!"

Anti-Elina pulled back her head, the energy field ringing with cracking branches around her. "You don't want to be an architect? There are so many creatures in the universe you could help."

I hadn't meant to cry in front of Ambrosine and Emery, but when my vision began to go blurry, I knew it was too late. "But I want to do field work with my friends. Everyone else gets to do field work!"

"Yes," Anti-Bryndin interjected, shoving his arm in front of Anti-Elina. He shot her a dangerous look. "Anti-Elina, he does not want it. He is smart enough and does not need any of the extra teachings. He is  _smart enough_."

"Julius," Anti-Elina tried again, a faint note of pleading in her voice. I rubbed my hand up my cheek. She pushed the two colourful, clacking stones away from her eyes and crouched down in front of me. "You were given exceptional talent. What would Tarrow want you to do with it? You have such a creative mind. You could go on to design murals, monuments, gardens, shrines, mansions… Maybe even a zodiac Temple someday, should another ever be knocked down."

I tried to reconcile my mental image of an old, moustached drake travelling humbly across the cloudlands with a tent and a small supply of food in hand, laden down with charmed jewels and blueprints, against Anti-Elina's praise for the occupation. Her comment regarding Tarrow stung me to my core, and I rubbed my shoulder with my hand.

"Might I consider your offer for awhile, High Countess?" I asked, lifting my eyes to meet hers. "As I see it, I'm only going to grow more intelligent from here, aren't I? May I experiment with my career options and have a spot of fun playing with my friends first, before I have to leave the Castle and go be a Zodii-devoted acolyte and all?"

As Anti-Elina stood and brushed her claws through her hair, Anti-Bryndin shot her another harsh look. "You place many ideas of grand things in his head," he said, in nearly a growl.

"You have a little while to figure out what it is you really want," Anti-Elina decided evasively. She stared down her nose at me, and then twirled around on her heels. Her wings flashed like a fluttering cloak. "But you sell yourself too short, Julius. Whatever happens, don't ever waste those brains of yours. And that's an order."

* * *

**A/N** - Foop: *Floats into training room with any slightly unbalanced energy flow* *Blasts everything to dust and causes smoking room to channel Soil energy* *Destroys Water umbrae that materialize in the rubble because this is the only strategy he ever uses so he's gotten pretty skilled at fighting acrobatic Water umbrae* *Anti-Wanda gives him an enthusiastic passing grade while Anti-Cosmo facepalms in shame*

 


	5. Indigo Feathers

_In which the Summer of the Drifting Storm occurs, and Julius familiarises himself with his father's work_

* * *

"Up and at 'em, pint-size! I wanna see ya skippin' like sunshine if you and I are gonna seize the day. You're goin' places, kid, where the walkways are lined with stars and you wade in the golden stuff up to your belt buckles! I'm talking clicks and els! I'm talking topiaries! I'm talking-"

"Bloody smoke," I muttered, nestling deeper between Mona and Ashley. "It will  _never_  be late enough in the morning for this."

The claw came poking at my shoulder again, even when I tucked my head beneath my shoulder. Although I'd made leaps and bounds in my reading abilities over the last several years, I hadn't yet stumbled upon any texts in the Castle library (nor the public one in Luna's Landing that Mona and I sometimes frequented with her parents) which took the time to explain the concepts of so-called "magic-touched" knives in words that an inexperienced magic user could understand and utilise. Even then, my magic was ofttimes shaky. I was thus far reluctant to use myself as the first target for anything involving a combination of magic and sharp blades.

And where did I intend to fly off to if I did free the rope from my wings, anyway? Ha. No, something nonphysical had kept me rooted firmly to the Castle grounds throughout my youth. The concern of leaving my friends' sides? The reluctance to disobey the camarilla court? Fear of the unknown future? I had nearly isolated the variable, but I still wasn't quite sure.

The prodding finger jabbed me a third time. "Hey there, up on your feet now, kiddo. The big leagues are about to pack their bags and head on down south without ya. You need to own it, you need to make your mark, you need to wow and bedazzle to sell yourself as the big, big investment I know you can be!"

"Arrgh," Caden complained from another branch. "If the scurvy dog keeps this up, we'll be left with no choice but casting 'im overboard."

If I let the man ramble on much longer, he'd wake my tired friends. Mona had already flattened her ears against her skull. I forced open my eyelids and tilted my head. Another anti-fairy, much taller than I was and outfitted in striped blue and white pyjamas, dangled from the branch across from mine, with all his long yellow fangs showing when he grinned. "Anti-Richard?" I mumbled.

He spread his wings and arms together. "You betcha bottom lagelyn, sonny! Boy, have I ever got big news for ya, kiddo- big news. The flashy stuff, the classy stuff." With that, he shoved a scroll into my hands. I fumbled to unravel it (quietly) while he bounced up and down where he roosted. "It costs you absolutely nothing, and you have yourself an infinite amount of valuable knowledge to gain. Think of the exposure! Think of the pizazz! Keep up the pace on this here block and you'll hit the charts and turn catch of the day before you can holler a good ol' 'Hallelujah!'"

"Shut up," Electro moaned.

"Wait," I managed when I was halfway down the page. "Is the source of this memo actually a reputable one?"

" _Reputable?_ " Anti-Richard bellowed in my face with enough force to knock me backwards. I scrabbled with my claws for purchase while my friends groaned and rustled around me. Anti-Richard jabbed his finger three times at my chest. "Hey, hey, hey, that came straight from the desk of my counterpart himself, mister. That's right, I say Mr. Richard Lewscru Thimble himself."

I looked at him. I looked at the scroll in my hands, with my adult name printed across the top after the words 'Dear young'. Then I looked up and squeezed it until the parchment bunched. "I say, this is a mistake. Not only am I underage, but no Anti-Fairy has been permitted on Spellementary School premises since the Barrier went up. Why should the Fairies alter their policy now?"

Again, low squeaks and mutters chorused from the drowsy Anti-Fairies around me. With a sheepish grimace, I released the branch I roosted from, and Anti-Richard did the same. I dropped from branch to branch, bouncing carefully around toes and sleeping figures, until I reached the coating of plastic on the floor. Anti-Richard pursued me from the room by wing. Upon landing outside the roosting room's door, he fixed me with an even wider grin.

"Well, you've heard a' the Finella reflex, ain't ya, kid?" Anti-Richard cupped his hands over his knees and squatted closer to my level. "Think of all the stats, bucko! That's right, yep, you heard me savvy. Fix your peepers on the olden days and turn your tail around! Fairies and Anti-Fairies make for natural opposites who attract each other, but since the war - oh, the war! - why, the very thought of befriending us has made the Fairies so squeamish that they claim any feelings of friendship and attraction are actually a- a-"

"A powerful instinct telling them to kill the counterparts upon encountering them. Cold shoulder syndrome. Yes, I remember hearing tale of it." I started rolling the scroll up again, and shook my head. "Anti-Richard, I'm just not sure I can in good conscience accept any proposal made out to grant me entrance to the school purely based upon the expectations of who these people - who have never met me before - think I'm going to turn out, you know what I mean?"

His smile, along with the electric hum of the energy field around him, dimmed by a hair. I rolled my eyes.

"Anti-Richard, according to this parchment you brought me, it would appear I've been invited to Spellementary School because my counterpart Cosmo Prime has been professionally determined to be a blithering moron, and because at some point or another, his mother officially declared her intents to homeschool him for life and shut out the poofarazzi." Upturning my hands, I protested, "How could I possibly justify dis _rrr_ egarding every way the Fairies have hurt us in the past, and choose to snap up this bait they've chosen to dangle now? Is 'blithering moron' actually a scientifically valid claim in Fairy World? It's rubbish, isn't it? Who would say such a damaging thing to an emotionally undeveloped individual? Who are these people to sweep in like I've forgiven them for it all? And in return for what? Higher test score averages? Grant money by networking with the High Count and Countess through me? Nay, I say!"

Anti-Richard made a rainbow motion with his hands. "'Anti-Fairy counterpart to a moron,' they say. 'Most brilliant mind we've seen for eons', they say. Kid, you've got the right stuff. It's all moxie in your blood, and you've really gotta pounce on it now while the wand is hot."

I folded my arms and snarked, "I'm not a shallow-minded, sap-headed commodity who can be easily ensnared to act as crown candy for their discriminating classrooms with a few pretty offers and strings of pearls and flattery!"

Pregnant pause.

"Do they  _rrr_ eally call me the most brilliant budding mind in centuries?"

"Millennia," Anti-Richard corrected, folding in his wings. I frowned.

"Oh, don't talk tosh. There are a thousand Anti-Fairies just like me, and a thousand who are smarter. That's the end result of living among such a cultured people."

"But the Fairy crew don't know that," he wheedled.

"What precisely are you implying now?" I asked, trying to keep my temper steady. I kneaded my toes into the carpet, claws catching in its fuzz. "That I should waltz up to our enemies and attempt to take credit for something I haven't truly earned? Can't you imagine what they might do to me if they were to find out I were living a lie? Anti-Richard, I'm only a pup, and I'm no special prodigy. I've hardly done anything noteworthy in my life."

Anti-Richard leaned his hand near the torch on the wall. "Hey hey hey, kid. By my recollection, just a whoppin' smack two years ago, you went and invented a love potion, solidified the gas into powder, and poured all of it - yes siree, I said all of it - inside every table salt shaker in the great hall."

"Beg pardon?" I placed both hands over my chest. "No. I invented a  _like_  potion. I know the rules, and the concept defined as 'love' is presently under full jurisdiction and copyright of the Eros family line. And that powder took months of research to perfect, and another week more just to work up the courage to use it, so don't credit me wrong." I grimaced at the memory. "It only works between two individual subjects anyway, just once, so the results can't be mass-produced for permanent world peace. I suppose no one can say I didn't try. But in all fairness, anyone who visited the library in Luna's Landing now and again could have figured out how to do the exact same thing. Potioncraft isn't near as hard as it's been made out to be in modern day."

Anti-Richard waited a beat without saying anything, and I looked up at the ceiling.

"Why, a six-year-old Anti-Fairy is hardly a prodigy by our standards, and you and I both know it." Hearing those words leave my own mouth, I pressed my hand to my cheek. "Although, I  _suppose_  I could have finished that little side project of mine by the age of four had I gotten the idea sooner. And I suppose… that's really something your average Fairy couldn't say, isn't it? Those uncreative nectar junkies are hardly the brainiacs they constantly attempt to make themselves out to be. After all, they are the ones who decided their young require outside schooling."

And yet…

"For some reason, I can't help but find this offer you've brought here rather…" The knuckles on my cheek moved down to my lips. "Irresistible, from the proper angle. You say my counterpart is a blithering moron? Intriguing… I imagine that I could perhaps work this in my favour. You know, play it up for show." I chuckled. "I always knew I was no ordinary anti-fairy. Right, then. Well? Where's Augustus? He'll flip when he hears this."

"You're going places, kid?" Anti-Richard asked with a squeal in his voice. I pointed my fingers back at him and we said it together.

"You betcha bottom lagelyn, sonny!"

Anti-Richard grabbed my waist and spun me around over his head. "You's gonna be big, I tells ya- bigger than Tarrow, bigger than all a' his seven sons. Why, you might just end up t'be bigger than Rhoswen himself! We could sign you to a double - No, a triple! - deal with the interpretive dance subcommunity! And there it goes, your name in torchlight all across the Sunset Skies: Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly! Oh, can you see it now? We can do business, li'l mister comeback kid!"

"I highly doubt that," I said through my laugh, while again, my roostmates shifted and complained from the neighbouring room at the noise. Several of them sounded as though they were finally waking permanently for the day.

_"Ahem."_

Both Anti-Richard and I stopped (or rather, he gradually spun to a stop while still hoisting me in the air) at the sound of Anti-Buster clearing his throat. Anti-Richard plopped me down on the floor and shrank into the shadows. Anti-Buster folded his arms, his fists gripping his tunic fabric. I made a noble attempt to smooth down my hair.

"Ah, so sorry, Anti-Buster, old chap. H-how has your morning been so far?"

"It's been  _flawless_ , sir."

The scathing scrape of his voice made my ears droop. When he spun around, hands still thrust under his armpits and red cloak flashing behind him, I bid good-bye to Anti-Richard and chased after him on foot. "Oh Anti-Buster, what's gotten a twist in your threads now?"

He continued to glare forward as he stomped along the corridor. "No offense intended, sir, but small children are a constant nuisance. They're always messing up my structure."

Well, I never!

It was all he would say. We descended the Castle's rear staircase to the floor of the grand hall. Anti-Buster dumped me off at the door to Anti-Bryndin's office before storming away. "Oh," I realized as he turned past the gargoyle at the corner. Suddenly, the offer to attend Spellementary School left a bitter sting in my mouth. My gaze fell to the scroll clenched in my hand. How was it that a simple anti-fairy of average talents like myself had stumbled across an opportunity to represent our race on a global level? The first Anti-Fairy in three hundred thousand years to be granted access to the Spellementary School grounds? Inconceivable fortune, really.

As I recalled, my friend Caden was Anti-Buster's son. I certainly understood where his disgruntled attitude was coming from, then. The camarilla must have been up for most of the night discussing the mail before Anti-Richard had arrived to deliver it. How much had it hurt parents to pass over their own children to grant me this sort of opportunity? And what about me? How many of my friends might I hurt or otherwise alienate were I to accept the school's proposal? Could I really consider leaving them behind while I moved on to the world of academia? Mona? Ashley? Electro…

… And whyever not? After all… when it came to spreading bad luck on the field,  _they'd_  moved on without me! Not one word of apology from any of them. Nay, nothing but praise from Mona and jealous accusations from Electro when I confessed the true purpose of my retesting my first bad luck assessment all those years ago, and Anti-Elina's encouragement for me to train as an architect. Hmph. Although I hadn't yet been shipped off against my will to train for years with the other budding architects at one of the zodiac Temples, Anti-Elina always did heap the pressure on me. Following Ambrosine's visit, my Friday the 13th duties were relegated to special artistic and architecture-related studies taught by Mona's mum, Anti-Penny. I couldn't say I truly loved the work, but what was I meant to do? Up and completely rebel against the authority figures? Oh, wouldn't that be the day.

Once Anti-Buster had gone, and I had worked up my courage, I pulled down the handle to Anti-Bryndin's office and eased open the door. I had been in there just once, some years ago… and not all that much had changed. The carpet was brown, still fluffy from decades of people mostly flying over it instead of trampling across it. On either side of me, cubbyholes like honeycomb lined the walls. Nearly half of them bulged with scrolls, while the rest contained smaller items or were empty altogether. A space of bare wall on the left was actually a hidden sliding door which, if opened, would lead me directly into the High Countess office where Anti-Elina did her work. I'd been in and out of  _there_  more frequently.

Across the small room, Anti-Bryndin leaned against his big black desk, his hand braced behind him and a purr across his face. The yellow curtains behind him were parted, showing off the morning stars outside. With the other hand, he played with one end of his scarf. He said, "Next time you come here, Julius, I ask you knock before you open my door. Is this okay?"

"Oh, um… S-sorry, High Count." I pressed my ears down, but didn't duck my head in shame. Something about the High Count's posture made it difficult to take my eyes off him. I tapped my chin. "Hmm. Why, Anti-Bryndin- you're positively glowing."

Humming, he pulled himself onto his desk and crossed one leg over the other. "Oh, that. I have now become aware of interesting news. News which will be important to broadcast across all the cloudlands in total at the time we choose for its reveal."

I paused for a moment to take in his words, then threw my hands into the air. The scroll from Anti-Richard flew somewhere behind me. "You're expecting? And this young? I say, you don't sound a day over 290,000."

Anti-Bryndin placed his fingertips modestly on his chest. "I have become readable even to puppies now?"

"It isn't an accident I'm being sent to Spellementary School for my brains, I suppose." I crossed the room and settled beside him, though on the floor rather than the desk. "Good smoke, and to think that years ago, I used to fit inside a pouch like yours. Anti-Bryndin, that's smashing news. Are you and Anti-Elina having a prince or a princess?"

My question made him hesitate. Anti-Bryndin looked down and traced his thumb over his pouch area. "Yes. My pup does not belong to Anti-Elina."

"Oh," I said. "So I imagine… your second wife, Anti-Zoe, is the mother, then." While I hadn't encountered Anti-Zoe myself, my mum ranted about her often. She herself was Anti-Bryndin's third wife, after all. Jealous rivalry was only to be expected.

"As is the way of things," Anti-Bryndin lamented, brushing what I suppose was an imaginary tear from his eye. "My counterpart selects Fairy-Zoe for his mate even if I have Anti-Elina for my High Countess. This is politics and culture for Anti-Fairies."

"Will we here at the Castle ever get to meet Anti-Zoe? No? Well, it's still exciting. A young prince or princess in the Castle! Oh, there will have to be parties, and people, and games, and of course, I'll get to grow up alongside the pup, and perhaps we can become good friends."

"Ambitious child," Anti-Bryndin mused. I nodded.

"And of course, I'd be honoured to teach him all I know of potioncraft, and anything Anti-Penny permits me to tell of architecture. Only…" My smile tugged downwards at the end. "Oh. I just remembered that as a member of the fairy subspecies, Cosmo will have had his fallopian tubes stopped up, so I'm in turn equally forbidden from bearing offspring of my own. Fathering my own child isn't something I'll ever be able to experience."

The pause between us was awkward, and didn't lighten up when I squeezed my eyes shut and balled my fists. To have the experience of someday brooding a pup in my pouch for two weeks before passing it along to its mother… all of that ripped away from me by stupid Fairy rules back when I was merely two years old…

I shook the thought away and turned my eyes on the ceiling, which had been painted a soft red. The beauty of fate was, there was no telling yet what the future might bring. Quite possibly, Mona might end up carrying a child someday, fathered by a drake from an Anti-Fairy subspecies still permitted to reproduce. Such was the way of our kind, to reflect our counterparts. And since I was to be married to her, those pups would be rightfully mine as much as hers. They would become my children. She was counting on my support, and really, that's what marriage is all about.

"Julius," Anti-Bryndin said, forcing my attention back to the present. He leaned further back on his desk, resting one hand on his pouch. "If you have come to my office, I wonder if you are thinking you will indeed go to Spellementary School soon. Is this okay?"

"I worked out my thoughts with Anti-Richard, High Count," I said, sitting down on the carpet. "I'll admit that while I was conflicted at first, I decided that if I were given this opportunity, there must be a reason for it, and I don't intend to let it pass me by."

Anti-Bryndin nodded in a slow and thoughtful sort of way. "There were concerns? From you?"

"Well… As a matter of fact, yes." I adjusted the hem of my tunic over my knees. "Anti-Richard brought me a scroll that had supposedly come from his counterpart, who teaches assorted classes at Spellementary. However, the timing of this message strikes me as odd. It appears so random. Anti-Bryndin!" I threw my hands into the air. "I'm only eight years old! Children aren't intended to go to Spellementary School until around the age of fifty with the rest of their cohort! What? What?"

"Fairy students wait," he pointed out. "Anti-Fairies are famed for big brains. Yours is big, so you can go."

"But- but-" I gestured again at empty space. "How did this Fairy-Richard fellow even find out about me to begin with? I've done nothing really noteworthy that should thrust me into the spotlight. My magic is known to sputter out at the worst of times for reasons that have yet to be explained. So far, I've turned down official training as an architect. I'm no heir to a High seat like your pup will be."

Anti-Bryndin leaned forward with his eyes shut and teeth set in a smile. "I went to recommend your going with Fairy-Richard. Is this okay?"

I blinked. "You? Whatever for?"

Anti-Bryndin considered me, still pressing his hand over his pouch. "Julius, Anti-Elina and I have talked. We think it will be noble and good of you to test the education system and the people to see if young Anti-Fairies can be welcome there yet. Then, other Anti-Fairies can go after you."

"I suppose…" My eyes slid away, over to the closet door beside his desk. "But, what if the Fairy children tease me? I anticipate receiving some silent treatment from being there, or if not silent treatment, then targeted forms of abuse."

"Ah, this is why we choose to send you," Anti-Bryndin answered easily. "You are a strong pup who will manage despite pains. Your counterpart is said to be dumb. He created fear in Fairies with his strong powers, and so we must strike now. We will show Fairies we Anti-Fairies are less scary than their own kind. We will prove that we deserve Spellementary School and, someday, the Barrier may be lowered. This can allow travel across long borders to Fairy World. I trust in your hard work. Is this okay?"

I supposed it was. Anti-Bryndin nodded and slid behind his desk. He had the paperwork already filled out, and bound the scroll (after showing me what it said, of course) with a yellow ribbon. This, he said, he would deliver to the Anti-Fairy Council personally.

"Are you well, Julius?"

I stared at my toes. "I… I'm just not sure I'm the right Anti-Fairy to send. I'm hardly the smartest pup we have around, and there are others much closer than I am to the age of school attendance encouraged by the social clock. I just worry that in testing the waters of the school, I'll be tearing a rift between myself and my peers here at the Castle. Why send me, out of everyone?"

Anti-Bryndin shrugged his wings and finished tying the ribbon into a bow. "Every month past the time your father became smoke, an anonymous donor made many sums of contribution towards having you attend school. That helps to choose you."

I jerked up my head. "After my father went to _what?_ "

Anti-Bryndin set the bound scroll to one side of his desk, and tucked the remaining spiral of ribbon into a drawer. "Oh? Were you not told? Your dad is dead. It's very sorry."

"I- Oh. Rhoswen's chisel, I- Oh. Did… did you ever know my father, High Count?"

My nameless, faceless sire had never been a presence in my life, and so I had invented excuses and occupations for him over the years. I always figured he must be a guard at the Barrier to keep nasty Fairies from sneaking over to pick on us. Or a hunter who made his living by catching and selling small animals and insects at fair prices to nobles too pompous to catch their own. Or, and I had entertained this one especially in recent years, perhaps he was an architect who studied at a Zodiac Temple far away and couldn't properly make time for visits. Or perhaps he held a position on the Anti-Fairy Council, and my birth had been a secret he loyally kept for political reasons. Or, he lived on a nearby moon.

Wherever he was, I imagined he wrote my mother loving letters even from afar, requesting details about his two sons here at the Castle, and enclosing pretty jewels bought from Fairy World or shells stolen from the Earth seashores themselves.

Anti-Bryndin nodded. "Ah, Anti-Robin. He worked in kitchens and food things. Head of the servants who cooked. He is dead I think six years now." The High Count tapped one claw against his cheek while I reeled back my head and struggled to absorb this unsettling information. "We do have some of the Anti-Robin things still here, and I did think to clean them out. We have kept them many years, but I wish to convert the storage location as I keep more room in the Castle for my heir. I am looking for people who will go through his many things and decide what to do. Your brother will look. I will start him today. Maybe you want to look too? Is this okay?"

All I could do was stare at him. On some level I heard and processed his words, but only one thought pulsed at the forefront of my mind:  _Father. Father. Father._ And then,  _Dead. Dead. Dead._

Anti-Robin was my father. Hearing it sickened me to my core. I rested my hand against my forehead. "My father was Anti-Robin, head servant of the Blue Castle, and for two years he and I actually lived together underneath the same roof. If I'd only known…"

Why hadn't I ever pressed Mum for details on my father? So many of the others in my cohort didn't know their fathers that it was sort of a taboo subject to dwell on, and thus it had never really come up. But I could have asked. She might have told. Mum might snap at and threaten to hit me sometimes, or drag me around the Castle by my foot while I lay on my back, but she still knew a great deal and never withheld information when I asked for it, and I respected her immensely for that.

Why hadn't I asked? My throat constricted, eyes burning behind my clenched lids. Why hadn't I even  _asked?_  It would have been so easy to, and then I could have grown up familiar with him. And to think of all those weeks just after I was born when I had slunk about the kitchens searching for a magic-touched knife I could use to slit the bindings on my young wings. To think I had wasted so much time believing that if he were to hunt me down, he'd turn me into a fly on the spot. To think, all those days, weeks, and months Augustus had spent in the kitchens, helping our father cook for-

…

I clenched my hands into fists. Even an hour later when I flung open the door to the storage room that contained what was left of Anti-Robin's things and found my brother kneeling among the battered crates and scrolls, I didn't loosen my fingers.

_"Augustus!"_

When he looked up, all the sound drained from the energy field around him. Instantly he flashed to his feet,  _canetis_  rings clinking at his ears. His green eyes darted left, then right. "Julius? W-what are you d-d-doing in this r-room? Th-these things b-b-belong to an o-old s-servant, and there's n-n-nothing in here th-that would int-t-terest-"

"You _ **knew!**_ _"_  I finally did unclench my fingers so I could jab one claw into his midsection- the highest point on his body I could reach. "Bloody smoke, so that's why you spent so much time with him! And my idiotic two-year-old brain didn't connect the dots. You knew Anti-Robin was our father, and yet you never  _told_  me! What is that?" My arms went out to either side. "I'm your baby b _rrr_ other! We tell each other everything! I've spent countless nights bundling with you, whispering secrets in your ears that I wouldn't even tell Mona. I've kept my lip buttoned when I've seen you sneak out to perform charity work for orphans or the elderly and I've done everything you've ever asked of me, but yet you couldn't be bothered to tell me Anti-Robin was my secret father?"

"I- I- I- I-" Augustus fidgeted with the crate behind him, looking in every corner where his gaze didn't cross paths with mine. I rubbed my eyes with the hand that was still in a fist.

"Why didn't you ever introduce me, Augustus?"

Augustus squeezed his eyes shut. His teeth pinched his tongue. The rings in his drooping ears twinkled with every twitch he made, which was a sufficient amount of them. I put my foot down and tried again.

"Why didn't you tell me our father lived here in the Castle, and that I could have met him while he was alive?"

"I d-d-didn't know."

"Oh, don't bloody give me that." I folded my arms. "You knew full well. Good smoke, your adult name is Anti-Robin. I even knew that. You're actually named after him. I should have put two and two together. I blame the fact that I am one of three Anti-Cosmo's in the Castle. It is a pretty common name."

"I d-didn't know h-he w-would l-l-leave us," Augustus whimpered, shrinking back in a crouch.

"But why did you hide him from me? He never approached me either. Did you hide me from  _him_ , too? Augustus Anti-Robin Anti-Lunifly, I daresay you are a mighty-"

"My s-s-surname isn't Anti-L-Lunifly," Augustus said, with the coldest tone of voice I'd ever heard leave his lips. I looked up, my bravado rapidly splintering. He stood. Then he brushed past me and lifted the lid off a crate on my right as though he hadn't said anything. I bristled with indignation at having been blown off like a fruit fly, but I forced myself to speak, even if it was through clenched teeth.

"Augustus? What was Father's family name?"

"A-Anti-Cosma."

"Anti-Cosma." I tasted the name a few times in my mouth: "Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Cosma." It sounded a little funny, didn't it? "And what's the honoured animal of the Anti-Cosma family?"

"The r-rat."

The Anti-Lunifly line honoured the fox. In accordance with Anti-Fairy tradition, it was expected that once I began practicing shapeshifting, I would take only ever the form of the animal that had been associated with my family for generations. Now that I had discovered my father's family, it would be socially acceptable for me to switch over if I chose to, so long as I left my previous form behind. In my mind's eye, I pulled up the image of a dirty grey rat and placed it beside a beautiful russet fox. The fox won out.

Augustus rummaged around inside the crate, and his wings drooped. "W-what Papa and I h-had was s-s-special, J-Julius… a-and in my p-pride, I d-didn't w-want you to t-take that away f-from me. H-he's the only one w-who was ever n-nice to me." He sighed. "Papa knew he h-had another p-pup, but he d-didn't know if it was a d-d-drake or a d-damsel."

"Observant, was he?" I drawled, imagining my mother dragging me down the hall and shouting at me. Augustus shot me an injured look.

"H-he was busy. N-not only did he w-w-work in the k-kitchens, but h-he wanted t-to invent th-things t-to help others. He was o-out around the t-towns a lot. I th-think he always s-suspected his p-pup was y-you, but he d-didn't know you were h-his. I thought m-maybe when you were o-older, I c-could introd-duce you p-p-properly-"

I laughed, bitterly and harsh. "Well, and that plan worked out splendidly, didn't it? He's dead now. Gone to smoke. Reincarnated. You're the reason I'll never know what he was like. That was terribly unsporting of you, Augustus. You were very bad."

He lowered his head, not into the crate again, but into his hands. "I know. You d-deserved Papa's a-attention j-just as much as I d-did, but I k-kept it for m-myself. I d-didn't want you to f-find out this way. I t-told myself it was okay… i-if I was s-selfish j-just once about one th-thing… b-because I was s-still doing so many g-good th-things for p-people. But now…"

Augustus never let me see him cry, even though I always knew when he did. Abruptly he straightened up. Despite my protests, he swept from the storage room without another stuttering word. I remained alone.

Well. I supposed I may as well get started sorting through my late father's old things. The storage room wasn't particularly expansive. I wandered between the crates, picking up scrolls by the bundle. Few of them were tied, and several were falling apart. I unrolled one of the thicker scrolls and smoothed it out on the floor. But the words I read, and the flaking pictures beside them painted on in colourful ink, made me crease my forehead.

"What in smoke? I didn't know Anti-Robin wrote fiction. What's all this nonsense about a green anti-fairy?"

Along with most Anti-Fairies, I'd discovered that moving my claw beneath a word on a page helped my poor eyes keep track of it. From the sound of things, this fantasy concept of drastically tinted fur colour was actually real. Evidently, Anti-Robin had written about a single anti-fairy drake born with green fur instead of blue, and with bright yellow hair on his head. A black stripe underlined each of his eyes, and another patch of black grew in a scruffy way along his square chin. According to Anti-Robin's calculations, the green anti-fairy was enormous. He towered over most Anti-Fairies, and his wingspan stretched wider than anyone had ever seen. The wings came, Father insisted, from the great fruit bat with whom he shared his brown wings and a third of his genetics. But that couldn't be right. The patron bat species for the common anti-fairy was the Elrulian free-tailed bat. An insect-chaser. How should a fruit bat have gotten mixed up in there?

My father's notes were intricate. I found them crossing over between scrolls, showered in curious excitement and hopeful forays into the realm of science and wonder. It appeared that Anti-Robin first took his research to the Grand Archive Building, a place that I myself had become familiar with when I'd invented my "like potion" two years prior (and tried, unsuccessfully, to discover how to create a magic-touched blade). It was easily the tallest building in our pleasant capital city of Luna's Landing, and possibly in all of Anti-Fairy World except perhaps a Zodiac Temple or two. The lower two floors of the building were open to the public as a grand library. The third and fourth floors contained census records and other valued documents and archives. The three Robes who sat on the Anti-Fairy Council - the Navy of the High South Region, the Teal of the Lower East Region, and the Maroon Robe of Far West Region - met on the fifth floor, at the top.

This was where my father's work became interesting. According to his notes, he observed that historically, the three Robes who sat upon our Council always underwent a fur colour change upon taking their position. The Navy Robe had darker fur, the Teal Robe lighter, and most curious of all, the Maroon Robe had, well, maroon fur. But only for as long as they held their Council positions. Upon stepping down, their colours returned to whatever they had been prior to their ascension.

The answer lay at the feet of the Fairy Elder. She was a lady shrouded in mystery, allegedly impartial on matters of Fairy, Anti-Fairy, and Fairy Refract concern, though admittedly I held some doubts. Considered empress of all the cloudlands, she dressed in exquisite yellow robes at all times, and her residence was called the Pink Castle in Fairy World. Anti-Robin referred to her as something of a deity, with the power to bestow her powers on members of both the Fairy and Anti-Fairy Councils for as long as they held their position. This in turn brought about curious side effects. In our case, a fur colour change.

But Anti-Fairies did not have political claim to the Lower West Region, represented by the Green Robe. Arbitrary borders placed that region in Fairy World. The Navy, Teal, and Maroon Robes lost their colours upon resigning from their positions should they not come up victorious following the Council Robe elections. So why the green fur for a drake with no present ties to political office? And why did he have yellow hair? Out of respect for our esteemed and impartial Fairy Elder, there was no such thing as a Yellow Robe, and none of the seven recognised Regions in the cloudlands were known by that colour, either.  _Why?_

And too, I had picked up myself that Anti-Fairy fur changed colours when exposed to the same hormones and magic that triggered our honey-lock instinct, prompting us to abandon whatever task we were involved in at the time and seek out the counterpart of whomever our own hosting counterpart had chosen for a mate. But not even that explained such a permanent fur change as this one. Nor did it explain that curious yellow hair.

I immersed myself in Anti-Robin's work. The more scrolls I unrolled, the more artistic representations I discovered concerning this strange green drake, varying between quick scribbles of his face to full-body portraits in expensive inks. Finally, following decades of research, Anti-Robin proposed a bold claim. The curious anti-fairy's colour, he proclaimed, had resulted from a presently-unknown mutation in his genetics. I accepted this explanation, although the sheer amount of paintings I stumbled across suggested "mutation" was never the first word which popped into Anti-Robin's head when he had the chance to study his muse. Now,  _fascinating, incredible,_ or _gorgeous,_ maybe.

"If so, that would certainly explain why he wasn't close to my mother," I muttered into my hand, reaching for another scroll. "Why, look at him. He was absolutely obsessed with another man, drawing and studying him constantly this way. Mostly unclothed, it seems. Here he describes that he first learned to create food to help feed his new friend. And here he mentions illegally crossing the border to Fairy World to obtain building supplies so he could assist this outcast anti-fairy in constructing a home on the outskirts of the acid pools on Plane 4. No one can be that tenderhearted without expecting to call the shots as to what they want in return. Oh, Father, so you were a bad boy after all. I knew even a known goody-goody such as yourself must have had it in you somewhere."

In fact…

"Wait a moment…"

I crossed my left hand over to my right and fingered my blue betrothal ring. Anti-Robin had certainly spent a lot of time with this green anti-fairy. A  _lot_  of time. Their connection certainly appeared to be one of strength and closeness. Might he and this green anti-fairy have become more than mere friends? Imagine, if you would: Anti-Robin pouring out his energy for a fellow he held no attraction to whatsoever? Why, the very thought lay at odds with everything I knew of friendship and caring!

After all, outside of family ties, romance was the ideal pinnacle of any close relationship; everyone knew that. As I saw it, there was no point in giving services such as time and energy without receiving a little reward, and the green drake must have fulfilled particular emotional needs in Anti-Robin that he hadn't been able to pry out of Anti-Florensa. Ohhh, could you imagine it? Anti-Robin slipping out from the Blue Castle on a daring mission. He'd descend four planes of existence from the city of Luna's Landing to the acid-ridden mountains of the Barrenglades far below. Travelling (Dare I mention it?) alone rather than in the protective company of a colony. All this, just to find his patient lover, who ever welcomed him with open arms and soft kisses on the cheek.

My dear, poor father, involved in a happy relationship with someone not so cruel and nasty as my mother? I couldn't resist kicking my legs in a sort of flutter at the thought. Even if they hadn't been betrothed in a Tarrow celebration at the turn of the zodiac cycle, anyone could see Anti-Robin and his beloved muse were the soulmates meant for each other. Yes, that  _must_  be it! Secret lovers, so captivated with one another that not even distance could tear them apart. It was the most beautiful love story in my family line, and I had an aunt who'd taken a manticore mauling for my uncle back when they were juveniles.

Anti-Robin and the green anti-fairy must have held numerous discussions over the decades they knew one another, so the subject of Anti-Robin's children simply  _must_ have come up at some point. Augustus claimed that Anti-Robin didn't recognise me as his own. But surely he knew there was another child, and surely he'd always intended to rescue me from my mum's violent clutches. Would he have swept me away, then, to live with him and this green anti-fairy? Of course! The answer stared me in the face as clear as lantern light. Ohh, what a beautiful, peaceful life that should be, living in a rural home with two fathers who adored me and spoiled me rotten to my core.

And speaking of children, why-! Might I also have cousins adopted by the green anti-fairy? Distant family members who knew Anti-Robin intimately and could share with me all the stories regarding what he had been like in life? Family who might accept me into their own flock? My wings strained against the rope that bound them, begging to soar down to Plane 4 at once.

One of these days. Not today, but one of these days. The day following my  _canetis_. That's when I would do it. Suddenly, the age of forty-eight seemed so very far away. In fact, I'd have to live my current lifespan another five times. Cruel fate, I say.

I read multiple mentions of Augustus joining Anti-Robin on these visits to the green anti-fairy in later years. Goody-goody Augustus, showing up dirty but happy with clothing and food for the needy, right alongside our father. Or as he apparently saw it,  _his_  father. My claws pierced the old parchment when I tightened my fingers. But I swallowed my woeful pride and managed to move past that. And after a dozen scrolls, I finally reached the point where Anti-Robin mentioned the object of his apparent obsession by name. I switched my ears forward.

"'Anti-Fergusius Alexander Anti-Whimsifinado'."

That was his name. The green anti-fairy. That was his name. I wondered if Anti-Robin had had any cute nicknames for him. Had they first met back before Anti-Fergusius turned 150,000, and he had answered to the name Alexander?

"'Firstborn son of Anti-Ambrosine Alexander Anti-Whimsifinado and Anti-Solara Lavender Anti-Posy. Hmm." I drummed my claws against the floor, listening to the way they clicked against stone. "Anti-Posy. Anti-Posy. Where do I know that name from? Oh, it's right there on the tip of my tongue…"

How curious. As I understood it, the Whimsifinado family were praised among the most noble of Fairy families. And here, the Anti-Whimsifinados appeared to have faded nearly into obscurity. That much was clear in the way Anti-Solara hadn't taken on her mate's name herself, although apparently she had chosen to pass it along to her son. Anti-Fergusius alone stood out to me as interesting, and even then, he was considered an outcast in our society. However, hundreds of thousands of years prior my sentience, there  _had_  been a year on our calendar named the Year of the Green Bat. Might that perhaps be connected to his birth?

"Anti-Robin says here that the man lives down in the Barrenglades on Plane 4, a place most Anti-Fairies have no interest in visiting. If this information remains accurate, he currently resides at the base of Dragondrool Mountain. I swear I've heard Augustus mention that name on multiple occasions before slipping out of the Castle. Hmm…"

The sound of footsteps and  _canetis_ rings brought me pause. Still lying on my stomach, I twisted back towards the open storeroom door to observe my brother stroll in, hauling a red-brown case by its handle. "Good smoke," I said, "what is that? Augustus, we're supposed to be ridding this room of old junk, not carting more of it in here."

"I kn-know. But, th-this was Papa's p-prayer box. H-he gave it to me b-before he d-died, but I d-don't think I d-deserve it anymore." Augustus kept his eyes on the floor. "I want you t-to have it."

I stared at the tarnished hinges on the box. Slowly, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. "This doesn't fix things, you know. You knowingly denied me access to my true father. You took a part of my family away from me. I shan't forgive you easily for that."

"Y-yes, I know that t-too. I'm s-sorry. I was s-s-selfish and wr-wrong, and- and I want to sh-show you this." Augustus sat on the floor beside me and placed the box on my lap. It was half as big as I was, with sharp edges that dug into my skin even through my tunic and fur. I sighed, but unclicked the old latches and lifted the lid. The inside was lined with rosy felt. Seven simple animals either carved of coloured stones or formed from magic, each one small enough to rest in my palm, stared up at me: An amethyst hummingbird, a ruby lizard, a turquoise turtle, a sapphire albatross, a citrine donkey, a beryl leopard, and a jade rooster.

"Th-they're blessing t-tokens," Augustus explained. He picked up the turtle - Sunnie's sacred animal - and flipped it over so it rested on its back in his hand. "Each of the z-zodiac s-spirits has a d-different mastery, and you c-c-call on different s-spirits to receive d-different b-blessings. D-Dayfry is the patient l-leader, Saturn is the p-passionate warrior, S-Sunnie is the quiet scholar, Munn i-is the playful t-traveller, Twis is the f-farmer and the m-merchant, Winni is the t-teacher and healer, and Thurmondo is the sh-shy inventor. The best w-way to pray is to visit their temples and make o-o-offerings to them. But s-sometimes, when you're at home, i-it's nice to t-talk to the t-tokens and hope the s-s-spirits can h-hear you. Y-you flip the animals on their b-backs when you're c-calling on the s-spirit. Th-things like that."

He smiled, in a sad way. "They l-like to be out of the b-box and st-standing in a row. S-sometimes, in the k-kitchen, I would t-take them out. I do it where m-most other Anti-Fairies my age don't s-see, because I thought they m-might tease me, or maybe b-break them. I hope you're very c-careful with these, Julius. P-Papa made them."

"Of course," I said, though I had no idea how I would even get the solid box off my lap, let alone haul it around to some private place every time I wanted to peek underneath the lid.

"They l-like to s-stand up, but they're all m-made so they can b-balance on their b-b-backs with their b-bellies up. Th-that's how you c-call on them when you p-pray. It's like a f-funnel." Augustus tilted his head. "But, Papa always s-said it was very i-important that you only c-call upon one spirit at a t-time. They get awfully j-jealous if they send blessings y-your way and meet another of the s-spirits in the p-process. You have to keep them s-standing straight up unless it's r-really, really important th-that you need their h-help. You don't want them t-to think you're s-selfish."

I frowned at the tiny water-blue turtle in his hand. Its shell was sculpted into a spiral. Little carved eyes gazed blankly back at me. "Why are you giving me this?"

Augustus replaced Sunnie's turtle in the snug, moulded place in the felt. "I went to p-pray. I don't think the s-spirits are happy about what I d-did. If you have the ch-chance to call down their b-blessings, I don't want to d-deprive you of that too."

I fingered the lower corners of the box, my hands still mostly pinned down by its weight in my lap. I shifted my legs. "Augustus? Do you think I'll pass my  _canetis_  when it's my cohort's fiftieth year?"

"Of course," he said in alarm. "Why w-w-wouldn't you?"

"You didn't," I said, glancing up. "That's why Papa made these for you, isn't it? Because you can't fly to the Temples, and you're not allowed to carry a wand."

Augustus still wouldn't meet my gaze. Not that that was anything new. He stood again. "I want you to h-have them, Julius. I did s-something wrong in k-keeping you from meeting P-Papa while he l-lived, and I d-don't deserve b-blessings until I can f-forgive myself. And I don't p-plan to ever forgive myself."

Again, I called after him, but he left anyway. I shook my head and returned my attention to the tokens in the box. Oh, Augustus. Quite the pitiful noble. I could see why no one much liked him. It was all too easy to become frustrated with a self-deprecating goody-goody like him.

It took almost an entire minute to slide the heavy box off my lap and onto the ground beside me, and I groaned when I was done. It was a very pretty old box, but so difficult for an undersized eight-year-old like me to heft around. Not to mention that Mum was sure to find it were I to keep it with me. Augustus usually did a good job of staying out of her way. I tended to be less fortunate. The camarilla couldn't catch her scathing words and smacking staff every time.

I studied the little carvings sitting in the felt. They weren't very big. No, not at all. Carefully, one by one, I pried each of them out of their places in the box. After checking to be sure that no one was watching, just to be sure of it, I unbuckled the belt on my tunic, lifted it up, and slid the carvings through the vertical slit on my stomach and into my inner pouch. They were cold. Mostly smooth, though ridged here and there. The donkey's ears sunk into my side. It was the only way I could think to carry them, and maybe that would be okay, for now. It wasn't as though I'd be getting a lot of use out of that pouch for its intended purpose.

I spent the rest of the morning clearing things up in the storage room, sorting everything into "keep" and "toss" heaps- one of which was considerably larger than the other. Mona found me eventually and offered her help, but I didn't let her see Anti-Robin's scrolls. No one was allowed to see those scrolls. I had my own personal laundry drawer in the Water crevice of the creche roosting room, and I kept as much of his life's work as would fit hidden away in there.

The drawer was stuffed, as were the lonesome punctures in my soul. I dreamt of springtime.

* * *

**A/N**  - Anti-pixies appeared in the FOP video game, "Clash With the Anti-World". They have green bodies and yellow hair, and wear yellow jackets with red spots on them. They will fight you with party blowers. While the events of the game aren't canon in my works, I did choose to incorporate the green anti-pixies into my fanfics instead of just making them boring ol' blue.

About the title of this chapter, "Indigo Feathers". According to Wikipedia, Chinese Catholic bishops would wear violet hats instead of wearing green hats. This stems from green being associated with infidelity in Chinese culture. Wearing indigo feathers in these violet hats was "a way to further indicate disdain for the color green."


	6. Strong Suits

_In which the Summer of the Drifting Storm occurs, and Julius attends Spellementary School at the tender age of eight_

* * *

Anti-Elina tapped her claws against the table. "Try it again. You have to let the last syllable buzz on your tongue. Tír Ildáthach."

"Tír Ildátha _ccchhh_." I eyeballed her hand as she moved her knight of speckled blue ceramic along the game board. I sighed. Truly, little was worse for an inquisitive, impulsive child like myself than having to play the defender at fidchell, whether we were playing  _hneftafl_  rules or not. I reached for one of my generals. "Why don't you want me to go to Spellementary School?"

"He will go," Anti-Bryndin said, peering out through the window in her office, his hands playing with one tail of his scarf. Anti-Elina glared at the back of his head.

"Because you have a brilliant mind and you deserve better," she said. "Now. Name the three spirit bears of the modern-day cloudlands."

"Avalon, Hy-Brasil, and Tír Ildátha _ch_." I set my general a space closer to the Water point of the board.

"Very good. And they are?"

"The dormant spirits of the land we reside on. We Anti-Fairies have been charged with keeping Hy-Brasil, the Ursa Red Like an Ember and spirit of Anti-Fairy World. Ursa Avalon watches over the Refracted, and the Fairies live and play beneath the eye of Tír Ildátha _ch_ , the Ursa of Many Colours." I watched Anti-Elina pluck up her courier piece. "I think Spellementary will be good for me."

"And I say it will ruin you. You'll lose your curiosity and be forced into a formulaic box. You'll be taught to underachieve. Who are the zodiac spirits?"

"The seven sons of Tarrow the Luck-Twister. They hold mastery over the seven facets of life that Fairykind consider elements, and following the Sealing War, they were given Temples of their own. I won't underachieve, I promise."

She set the courier on a Breath stump. "Maybe you won't, but the Fairies will stuff your head with trivial facts and figures anyway. It's such a waste of your brains."

"Whisperwings?" Anti-Bryndin turned around, and clenched his teeth in a smile. "My decision was made. I wish he will go to the school, and then one day other Anti-Fairies can go to the school."

"Ha! You hear that?" I pointed my claw. "Anti-Bryndin wants me to be  _first_  for something I want to do. As a second-born runt, I never get to be first for anything I want."

"Anti-Bryndin, puffytail… I'm not comfortable with this." Anti-Elina took up one of my discarded pieces and tapped it idly against the table's edge. "I don't like you using Julius as a guinea pig to test the waters of Fairy relations before our heir is born."

"I want to go!" I pounded my fists against her desk, trying not to knock over any of our fidchell pieces. "I'll make our colony proud, and after your heir is born, I'll teach him everything I'm taught so he can get a head start in learning from the moment he arrives in this world. Please?"

Anti-Bryndin leaned his folded arms over the back of her chair. "Anti-Elina? Is this okay?"

She pressed her knuckles to her forehead and sighed. "Yes, dear love."

Reaching around her, Anti-Bryndin took her chin with the forefinger and thumb of his left hand, and tilted back her head to kiss her softly on the lips. I waited, tapping my claws, until their brief exchange finished. Anti-Elina straightened her hair with a quick flick, and resumed our game as though no interruption had been made.

"How do the zodiac spirits pair up?"

"In the way that best balances their respective elements and personalities. Perhaps you're right about one thing, Anti-Elina. Why should I concern myself with trivialities when I can have underlings manage such tasks for me one day?"

"I implore you not to let your confidence get to your head, Julius. You'll lose yourself. It's your move."

I stared at the board, my claws twitching against the table. Anti-Elina's army had been backing my High Count into the Sky corner all game. I didn't know how she intended to stop me from reaching it and claiming victory, which put my nerves all the more on edge. "Frankly, High Countess, I'm insulted at the insinuation. You know I am nothing if not meek in all things."

"Who are Prince Morn and Princess Eve?" she asked, ignoring me. With a grunt, I slid my First General three spaces down the Hy-Brasil side of the board.

"The spirits of day and night, light and dark, drakulanity and damselinity."

Anti-Elina captured one of my knights and set it with a clink on the table beside my hand. "And the Grim Reaper is?"

I sighed. "The second-born son of Mother Nature and Father Time. He's known as the spirit of death and prosperity, currently settled in a committed relationship with the Cycling Hen, the spirit of life and fertility. Anti-Elina, will you truly let me go up to Spellementary? I never get to be first for anything. Anti-Bryndin said I could go, and I want to go."

Anti-Elina raised her gaze to meet mine. "And I'm not going to stop you. I just want to be sure it's your decision. Now, what is kiff-tying?"

"The ultimate bond between two spirits, and a symbol of unity between a nature spirit and his representative on the camarilla court…"

I left for school the following Sunday. Due to the extreme time zone difference, I spent Saturday night bidding an excitable farewell to Mona, and attempting to soothe the ego of a disgruntled Electro, who shot me sour glances all weekend whenever he couldn't avoid me. Just as well, I supposed, that he'd still be asleep when I left for school.

"How do I look?" I asked Anti-Buster, straightening the yellow badge on my perfectly unwrinkled black suit. Spellementary School had a dress code, and I daresay I looked smashing in it, even with my drowsy eyes. With his help, I'd even managed to tame some of the scruffiness of my hair. And of course, as had become tradition with Augustus and I, I secretly wore my undershirt inside out to keep the evil spirits at bay. Shame he wasn't here to see me off, either.

"Very good, sir," Anti-Buster replied, actually sounding like he meant it when he sized me up. "Now then, young master, if you would follow me downstairs, I shall guide you to the Spellementary portal."

I threw one last glance at myself in the mirror before hurrying down the corridor after him. "I heard that no one, not even Fairies, can  _poof_  directly up to Spellementary School. Will a magic portal really take me there?"

"If we're on time, sir. We have thirteen portals beneath the Castle, but they were shut down once the Barrier was erected. However, with you going to school, we are specially permitted to open the one which leads to Spellementary School very early each morning, as well as open it again in the afternoon. Should we miss our window, I'm afraid you'd need to take the long way up there."

"Well now, isn't that sporting of the Fairies?"

Anti-Buster used a key to unlock the seventh door in the basement corridor, and it opened into a room like a bathhouse. The floor fell away in steps, leading down to a pool of water which swirled with stripes of yellow and white. "That's the portal?" I asked unnecessarily, peering down at it from above.

"Yes, sir."

I glanced behind me, wondering if I ought to have asked Mona to see me off here rather than last night, over the supper table among the chattering of a dozen other voices. Ah, well. She was sleeping now, and I would be home again by afternoon.

I lifted my head and pushed my shoulders back. My wings were straight. My feet were steady. So what if I was only eight years old? So what if I'd been born scrawny and bore fur a sickly shade of dark blue? I was the first Anti-Fairy back at Spellementary in thousands of years, and I intended to own it.

With Anti-Buster's blessing, I descended the stairs until the swirling, colourful liquid lapped against my bare feet. I kept going, wading now, as it covered my knees.

This was it. I closed my eyes, and plunged my head under. With my entire body now submerged, I was off across the cosmos to Spellementary.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself washed up against the shore. Only, it wasn't per se a shore, so much as another portal room, much like the one that I had just left Anti-Buster in. Only, this one wasn't nearly so well lit by torches. I raised my head, looking left and right in the dark.

Well. There were stairs. Still dripping portal liquid, I grasped the handrail and climbed them up to the door.

… It was locked. I rattled the knob, and it remained locked.

For a moment, I could only stand and do nothing. I felt the door with my fingertips, only to confirm to my horror that it was wood. Anti-Fairy's bane. Any knocking I made upon its surface would rain arrows of pain through my blood and leave me nursing a sweltering headache for hours. Our doors in Anti-Fairy World were carved of lightweight polished stone for exactly that reason, even though for some odd reason, Anti-Bryndin always seemed to struggle opening them. We even had stone tables, and of course, stone floors.

But, fortunately, I had not been invited to Spellementary School because I was dim enough to try the knocking on wood option first. I raised my voice and shouted, "Hello? Is somebody out there who would be willing to let me out of here? It's Julius, the Anti-Fairy who was invited and expected to show up today!"

I didn't have to lay my ear against the door to hear voices on the other side. Someone muttered about a locked door, then there was the sound of rustling cloth, followed by whirring wings. A wooden wand scraped across leather as one of the two drakes (I could tell they were both drakes) drew it from its sheath. The wand tapped against the lock from the outside. A chain unhitched, the doorknob rattled, and the door swung open on its own accord. I stepped out, blinking in the sudden candlelight. I appeared to be standing in some sort of office space, though with all the stimuli hitting me from every direction, I couldn't sort out its every detail. Was that a window between the dark red curtains on the other wall, or was there no wall there at all?

The fairy nearest me handed me a towel. I took it with gracious thanks and proceeded to rub my fur dry of portal juices. He reminded me to some degree of Ambrosine. His body type was tall and thin, though not quite as pudgy in the stomach. Light on his toes, I would guess. Rather than black hair turning white, his hair appeared ginger just starting to streak into grey. Round ears, silver eyes, and a long black ribbon of a tie tucked beneath his blue-grey vest. He kept his wand cocked in his hand. I took a cautious liking to him, or at least to his non-invasive aura of authority.

The second fairy sat at a very large desk in a very large padded chair, not terribly unlike the one that Anti-Bryndin used back at his office. Currently, his hands were busy fixing the collar and top button on his shirt, even though he looked as though he wished to lean back in his chair with both arms behind his neck. He gave off that sort of commanding attitude. There, now  _he_  looked more like the Fairies I'd expected to encounter outside of Anti-Fairy World, with wide shoulders, powerful muscles, strong wings, and pink hair wearing away around his ears. Dark freckles coated his nose, cheeks, and what little neck of his I could see. His shirt was white, much to my concern, and he didn't wear so much as a vest on top of it. That would attract poor karma, you know. I knew pointing it out would be rude, but as I straightened after my bow and waited for him to acknowledge my presence so I could speak, I felt increasingly annoyed by it.

"Oh," he said, a half-note of disinterest in his voice. "You must be the new anti-fairy student. The eight-year-old iris from the High South Region."

I couldn't help myself. Forgoing the usual responses of respect, I chuckled. "However did you guess? Are you perchance Fairy-Richard?"

The fairy nodded, but not in answer to my question. Rather, he nodded towards the slender drake hovering in front of me. "That's Dick Thimble. He'll be instructing you during your time here at Spellementary. I'm Principal Orin Winkleglint."

 _Principal?_ That title sounded important. My smile faded. Two seconds in here, and I'd already messed up. And not only had I messed up, but Principal Winkleglint looked nothing like Anti-Richard. Dick looked like Anti-Richard. How charming.

Dick studied me, tapping his wand against his chin. I squirmed my toes into the rough cloudstone that made up the floor. "You're certainly a member of the common anti-fairy subspecies," he observed, taking the chance to sheath his wand, "but you're clearly ¼ anti-brownie too."

"You can tell?" I'd pestered Augustus the other night, and he had confirmed anti-brownie heritage through Anti-Robin's line.

"Of course. The long brownie nose always skips a generation and presents itself in the next. You have a six-pointed crown like the common anti-fairies and the anti-will o' the wisps. From the shape and colour of your wings and the rounded edges of your ears, it's obvious that your patron is the Elrulian free-tailed bat, making you legally a  _Faeumbra fae_. And," he continued, studying my mouth, "you have distinctly curled fangs at either corner of your mouth. Not a single protruding fang in the middle. Therefore, it's logical to conclude that neither of your parents is an anti-brownie, but one of your grandparents is. Presumably, your grandmother."

I was impressed. "Why, you're exactly right. I say, you certainly know a lot, sir."

"I studied Fairykind biology in the Academy." Dick upturned his hands, and I placed my palms against his. "Please address me as Mr. Thimble. You then must be Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly."

I jerked back my head. "You called me 'Julius' before 'Anti-Cosmo'."

Mr. Thimble stared down at me with a drawn brow and thin lip. "As I understand it, you're an anti-fairy under age of majority. You are to be addressed as 'Julius'."

I smiled shakily up at him. "Oh, yes. You see, Mr. Thimble, most Fairies don't remember we give our p _rrr_ ivate names first that way. They shove those in the middle and call us by our adult name, regardless of whether or not we're 150,000 years old. I'm simply impressed that you did your research on the matter. I'd like to thank you for taking the time to understand and respect my culture and our traditions."

Principal Winkleglint made a curious sound in his throat, as though my phrasing impressed him. Mr. Thimble lifted one eyebrow, and offered an encouraging nod. "You clearly have a sharp mind and a brilliant intellect, Julius. I will enjoy teaching you. That is all the thanks I need. Please, take an open seat anywhere." He leaned down. "Between you and me, I would claim the front row. It will be easier for me to notice anyone who dares make you feel unwelcome there."

I nodded. We bid good-bye to Principal Winkleglint, and to the nix managing the secretary desk outside his office. Mr. Thimble guided me down the short hallway to what was called his classroom. We were the first ones inside. I looked around, flicking my ears forward and back as I took in the interior.

It was… an interesting place, to say the least. Not at all what I had anticipated. Miniature tables, only wide enough for one person to sit in each chair, filled at least two-thirds of the room. Naturally, when I'd heard I would be attending an environment intended to foster learning, I had assumed the tables would be long, and we would be grouped so we could all face each other and communicate. A chalkboard took up most of the room's front wall. The colours in here were bright enough that I couldn't help but feel a little nauseated- mostly pinks and pale blues. By channelling a combination of Love and Water, they balanced out my magical senses, but they certainly were blurry and bright before my physical eyes.

I walked over to a nearby shelf (Brown, of course- maybe the Fairies did know something of interior design after all) and picked up a bound stack of bark strips that had caught my attention. "Oh, now this is curious. Mr. Thimble? May I ask, what colour is this? It isn't native where I'm from."

"Orange?" he asked in surprise from some ways behind me. "I'd have thought you knew all about orange, seeing as it represents the Fire year on the zodiac. Aren't there large orange glider snakes in Anti-Fairy World, too?"

I tilted the book from one side to the other. "No, this isn't orange. It's too pale. But it isn't yellow either. Nor is it pink. It's something in between. What is it?"

"I'm not really sure, Anti-Lunifly."

I turned my head. "How can you not know? Colours are important."

Mr. Thimble could not answer me.

"Hmm." I replaced the book with care and took my seat in the first row of tiny desks. It was much too large for me. My feet didn't dangle anywhere near the floor, but at least when I sat up on my knees, I could see over the table and look around the room to some degree.

In pairs and trios, the Fairy students began to file into the classroom. Some were leprechauns, others elves, some aluxo'ob, and a few appeared to be fairies of the common variety. "Oh," one of them said in surprise, stopping short. Her hair lay tangled in short yellow curls, and it bounced about with every flap her wings made. Just trying to watch it with my eyes made me dizzy, let alone with my echolocation.

"Yes, I'm an anti-fairy," I said, tightening my fingers around one edge of my desk (I couldn't quite reach the other edge at the same time). I held her gaze, even though my wings quivered and my ears begged to fold back. I couldn't allow her the satisfaction.

"You're short," she observed.

"Well, yes, there's that too."

Mr. Thimble stepped out from behind his desk and motioned for the damsel to take one of the seats nearby, while the rest of the class gave me a carefully wide berth. "Lora, this is our new student, Julius. Since you're our class president, I hope you will show him a warm welcome, and help him learn his way around our school."

"Okay," she said, sounding more confused than enthusiastic.

Our textbooks were passed out. Mr. Thimble said they were relatively new, only a decade or so old. Previously, Fairies had chiselled their works in clay tablets. Now, it seemed, they were finally catching up with us Anti-Fairies. The textbook I received was a package of bark strips, but it was certainly closer to a scroll than the heavy tablets I'd anticipated.

But when we were asked to turn to page seventeen, I encountered an unexpected problem. I turned the strips over, then back again, and then raised my hand. When Mr. Thimble motioned towards me, I said, "Pardon, but mine doesn't have words on it."

Someone behind me snickered. Several somebodies. Mr. Thimble shut them up with a sharp glance. Then he ran his fingers through his hair.

"My apologies, Anti-Lunifly. It's written in pheromones, and I forgot the limitations of your species. Lora, please pull your desk up next to Julius, and translate for him as we go along."

As she obediently did so, I stared down at the packet of bark strips until the dabs of colour across it all turned into a swirling mess. I'd heard rumors that the common tongue between the Fairy and Anti-Fairy races was purely verbal, but I'd never believed it for myself until now. I say, someone ought to look into standardising the written language too. Our people needed a collaboration with a Seelie Courter to produce texts on a massive scale, that's what. Texts, research papers, and stories of every kind, in a medium all Fairykind could understand.

Mr. Thimble floated at the front of our classroom, his hands clasped at his waist. "Before we enter our lecture on how cloudland mountains are formed, let's take a look at our final magic cycle presentations. Magnolia, if I'm remembering correctly, it's your turn to present."

"I went yesterday," protested the elf, adjusting her pointed hat.

"No. I specifically wrote it down. I asked you to have your project in last week. The last time I asked you to present, you also told me you forgot."

"Well, I forgot to do it for today too."

Mr. Thimble took his wand and wrote her name on the board at the front of the classroom. "Then you'll present tomorrow. Please don't forget again."

I shouldn't.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew exactly how my peers would react to me - laugh at me - but I couldn't stand letting the burning question go unasked. Slowly, I raised my hand. Mr. Thimble pressed his lips together.

"Julius?"

"Um… Pardon the interruption, good man, but what precisely does 'forget' mean? I've heard the word once or twice before, but I don't quite understand it."

Several groans echoed around the room. My twitching ears picked up whispers regarding my speculated intelligence, or lack thereof. I forced myself to ignore them, even though their sting made me want to cry.

Mr. Thimble, however, didn't even blink at my request. "Of course," he said. "That's something else I forgot to cover. We'll have a demonstration. It's appropriate to discuss the nature of Anti-Fairies now that we have one attending our class anyway. Julius, Lora, please come up here and stand by me."

I stiffened. But Lora rose and floated to the front of the room, so I did too. Or I walked up, anyway. Mr. Thimble  _poof_ ed up a long strip of bark and presented himself before us both.

"I'm going to read off a list of facts. Class, I encourage you to scribble these notes down as fast as you are able to." Mr. Thimble brought his attention to Lora and me. "Both of you, pay close attention to what I'm about to say, and we'll see if you can answer my questions right when I ask them."

It sounded like a newborn's game. Lora and I exchanged glances, but nodded.

"All right. As we understand the universe, there are 24 Planes of Existence. There are 34 recognised subspecies of Fairy. The Earthbound cloudlands were shaped by ancient Fairy pioneers and the few remaining Aos Sí together. The Big Wand produces roughly 17,842 megawishowatts a day six days a week, before it is shut down late each Thursday night to recharge through Friday morning. The deepest lake in the cloudlands is Lake Sunflicker at 2,574 wingspans deep. The highest mountaintop in the cloudlands is Mount Stinger, part of the Ever-Reaching Ridge system, which stands at 29,414.3 wingspans. The heaviest dragon ever recorded weighed 4,623 boulders and 367 petals. The fastest land animal in the cloudlands is the serpopard, which can reach speeds up to 145 wingbeats a second. The largest known serpent is the Hairy World glider, which measures on average twenty wingspans long with a two wandlength diameter, and is capable of swallowing a Fae whole…"

My head swam with Fairy words and foreign units of measurements. Mr. Thimble continued in this way for a moment, then looked at Lora when he finished. "Your first question. How many subspecies are classified under the Fairy umbrella?"

"Thirty-four."

"That's right. And how high is Mount Stinger?"

Lora fidgeted her wings. "26,000-something wingspans?"

I was baffled. Why would she say that when she'd just heard the correct fact?

"I'm sorry. That's wrong." Then Mr. Thimble looked at me. "Julius, how high is Mount Stinger?"

"29,414.3 wingspans. That would be measured with the snow on top, of course."

"Correct. How far away from Earth is the planet Yugopotamia?"

"Approximately a million million kilobeats. Cloudlengths," I corrected myself with a mutter. Stupid Seelie Court measuring system. They could be bothered to use the same money that we did, but not the same words?

"Who founded the Earthside nation Scotia Alba?"

"The Milesian king Fergus Mòr Mac Earca."

"What is the Fairy equivalent of the condition Anti-Fairies refer to as 'Going thinningcore'?"

"Getting tingle-fritzy, meaning emotionally aroused or sugared up with sweets."

"Under which court case are Fairies and Anti-Fairies alike forbidden from practicing magic should they have a blood sugar concentration exceeding .10 mites?"

_"Mintwave v. Wandflick."_

"What measures a Fae's magical prowess?"

"A nymphviometer."

"How so?"

"By assessing the flow of magic as it leaves the palm of one's right hand, the most sensitive place on a Fae body." For emphasis, I pressed a knuckle from my left hand into my right palm. It was much too warm in the classroom to glimpse the traces of magical effervescence leaking out of my body from that point, but I knew the magic was there. I could feel it rushing in my veins.

"Name the seven Fomorian tribes."

That one was especially easy, considering the seven elemental snake races all matched up to one of the elements on our zodiac. I'd heard them mentioned by Anti-Elina once back in Anti-Fairy World. "The Succubi, Genies, Merfolk, Pressyne, Milesians, Djanggawul, and Cnemids."

"What contest of strength and skill did Lugh establish following the death of his foster mother?"

 _"Áenach Tailteann._ It's in August and is also known by the name Lughnasa."

"And his foster mother's name was?"

"Tailtiu." My eyes began to glaze over. What was the point of this exercise anyway? We'd all just heard him recite this exact information a moment ago. I adjusted the weight between my feet and sighed in embarrassed pity for my staring classmates.

"And her status was was?"

"The last queen of Old Elrue before the end of the Sealing War."

"What is a pixiu?"

"Pixius and bìxiés are spirits of wealth and devotion said to fiercely protect those they befriend, even after one should pass into the next life." Not that anyone had notably befriended either one for centuries, as I recalled. Both were said to be immensely stubborn, solitary creatures who tucked themselves away from the world for the most part.

"Approximately how many Earthside Fairies were killed during the rampage of King Elynas?"

"166,809." Four times the total Fairy population currently, as I recalled. I resisted the urge to run my hand down my face. Good smoke, was this act of regurgitating information ever boring.

"How were the cloudlands created?"

"By Beira, the daughter born of the very first union between Sunnie and Twis, and the perfect blend of Water and Soil. Following a spat with her great-grandmother Mother Nature, she taught herself to sculpt worlds from the clouds, where flora grow and fauna thrive and Fae walk despite the scientific realities claimed as fact in our day and age."

Mr. Thimble paused for a beat. He looked at me, and I met his gaze. "That wasn't what I said."

"That's where the cloudlands came from," I said defensively.

"I see… Julius, how were our ancestors, the Sluagh, divided in ancient times?"

"Into three classifications. The Sluagh were three distinct tribes who evolved from the singular Aos Sí parent race. First, there were a people we call the Domestic Fae, created when the loose magic in the universe coagulated with dust, and who over many generations eventually became the Fairies as we know them today. We call them Domestic Fae because they settled in friendly groups and tilled their farms together, and bartered their resources and were given in marriage and lived in relative peace one with another. Then there were Solitary Fae, who were formed of smoke and who evolved into the Anti-Fairies. Originally they took on animal forms and hunted for themselves in the wild, until they, well... were domesticated by the Domestic Fae, hence the name we've given to the condition."

My ears twitched when I said it. I tightened my claws.

"For generations, the Solitary Fae protected gardens from pests and livestock from predators and thieves. They acted as loyal spirit guides.  _Not_  mindless pets kept around for Domestic Fae amusement. Eventually, they discarded their animal forms and took on the physical characteristics of those with whom they bonded, although we Anti-Fairies still honour our ancestors and the wild animal blood which runs in our veins. The Anti-Lunifly family, meaning  _me_ , are direct descendants of Her Glory Cadmea, the renowned Teumessian fox famed for her quick wit and cunning thievery, you know." No one applauded, so after an awkward beat, I shifted my feet and went on. "Then, um, finally there were Trooping Fae, composed of mist, who became the feathered people we refer to as the Refracted. Even now, they migrate regularly through the upper Planes of Existence, traversing the High Kingdom majorly as hunters and gatherers. And, um, yeah."

None of this was precisely what Mr. Thimble had said either, given that I placed more emphasis on the evolutionary aspect of our history instead of the silly beliefs regarding the ancient Aos Sí people splitting into three different races. Daoist rubbish, that. Mr. Thimble asked me his final Anti-Fairy's dozen of questions, finally finishing with, "And how many generations has the Anti-Coppertalon dynasty lasted?"

"One hundred and twelve. With the newest heir on the way now," I remembered.

Mr. Thimble nodded and  _poof_ ed away his bark strip. "Very good. Apart from the notorious culture differences regarding your people's beliefs of evolution and the nature spirits' influence in history compared to ours, which was my fault for thrusting upon you, you recalled every disconnected fact I threw at you with total precision. Lora did not. She couldn't remember, and that's called forgetting."

Lora's face had turned from light to dark pink. Camouflage against the walls of the classroom? Perhaps. I studied her face curiously, searching for chinks and abnormalities. Fairies, I observed, had such flat faces compared to we Anti-Fairies. Something about our faces seemed more rounded or pointed at the front, in imitation of muzzles or snouts.

"I'm not sure I understand," I said finally. "Do you mean that she answered incorrectly on purpose because she understands how out of place I feel being the only Anti-Fairy here, and her intention was to offer me faux comfort in regard to my acute sensations of embarrassment?"

"I mean," Mr. Thimble said, peering down his nose at me, "that Fairies are notorious for having bad memories. In contrast, Anti-Fairies are wired so as not to forget anything. Forgetting is a foreign concept to your race, but now, perhaps, you have a point of reference to allow you to visualise it in the future, and sympathise with your fellow classmates."

"… Oh." That was… interesting information to learn. Upon my next visit to the library, I would have to look into that. Of course, I already had my suspicions. Namely, Fairies confined themselves to living in small family units, whereas historically, Anti-Fairies were exposed to colonies filled with up to hundreds of distinct individuals from a tender age. It would only make sense that Anti-Fairy brains were better equipped to assess, organise, and retain new information.

Hmm… If Fairies have poor memories, and Anti-Fairies never forget anything… and here I was attending a school of Fairy peers… I wonder…

"You may both sit. Thank you."

Quite understandably, I received sideways glances, some appearing hostile and others merely curious, all throughout the morning lecture on cloudland mountains. It kept up during our active exercise class as well, where I was much too small to fit into any of the provided uniforms, and ended up trying to play the ball games the Fairies were in my suit until permission could be obtained from the overall school board to shrink an outfit for my needs. Even then, my wings had to be stuffed awkwardly through the slits.

Many of the students had nothing to say to me, whether along the positive or negative spectrum. They simply kept their distance. Of course, the mounting awkward tensions were bound to crack sooner or later. In the cafeteria for lunchtime, while I strained to reach the ladle of the cauldron so high above me, they finally did.

"Hey," said one leprechaun with two tufts in his red hair (I hadn't been properly introduced to him, or I would of course have remembered his name). "Why are you eating our food?"

I looked over my shoulder at him, arms still stretched above my head. My tied wings twitched uselessly against my back. "Ahem. As I understand it, the food provided here is offered to all attending students in the entrance-level building on the sprawling Spellementary School premises. As I fit within that definition, I am therefore permitted to eat it if I like."

Lora frowned. "But, you're a member of the Unseelie Court. You don't even need food to survive."

"Yeah," an elf drake cut in, his face blotched with freckles. He puffed his chest. "You Anti-Fairies can't die while we're still alive. That's why we're called hosting counterparts. You're just shadow people. So, the Great Ice Times down on Earth makes it hard to farm food untouched by magic. Don't just waste our food if you don't even need it."

I focused my eyes on the cauldron again. "Uh…"

Before I could formulate a coherent response so full of brilliance that it would cow them all into silence, a hand touched my shoulder. I jolted, not having sensed there was someone behind me until contact. When I looked up, I found Mr. Thimble hovering there with his own tray in one hand. He said, "Why don't you eat lunch in the classroom with me, Julius?"

"Yes… That would be lovely."

He helped me serve myself the offered soup and potato skins. Then he floated, and I walked, down the corridor back to the classroom. I took careful notice of the architecture as we went, as Anti-Elina and Anti-Penny would have wanted me to. Fairies as a whole tended to build large rooms, but such puzzlingly narrow hallways.

"We have this tradition at Spellementary School," Mr. Thimble said, waving his wand at the doorknob to his room. The door pushed itself inward, and the candles within flickered automatically to life. "We put on an annual play towards the end of winter."

"Oh?" I took a seat in the middle of the classroom. Mr. Thimble tucked away his wand and clicked his own tray down on his desk.

"Yes. Perhaps you'd be interested in trying out for it, particularly with your talent for memorisation. You'd make a very convincing Lord of Liquorice."

I plucked up the first potato skin on my plate and considered his offer. "I don't know… Aren't these 'play' things normally presented in an amphitheatre in front of dozens, if not hundreds, of parent onlookers? Public rhetoric isn't as of yet a polished skill of mine, and I should very much loathe to lose occupational opportunities or some such thing according to my performance if I shouldn't perform to standards."

I took a bite of the thin potato skin and found it dripping pleasantly with salt flakes. After I swallowed, I added, "Anyway, it wouldn't technically be my first time performing in front of a large audience. Every New Year, my betrothed and I work on perfecting our traditional Tarrow dance. We perform in the courtyard alongside all the other young couples with one foot in our cohort, and frankly, I enjoy dancing  _en masse_ so I'm not left to be the centre of attention. Being the only anti-fairy on stage would wreck my nerves. You should grant the opportunity to perform onstage to someone who will value it more than I will."

Mr. Thimble hadn't yet sat down. He lingered in front of his desk, trailing his fingers along strips of bark and stacks of yellow parchment and not yet touching his food. "Of course, you certainly don't have to perform before the crowds if you don't want to, Julius. I just thought you might be interested. The Lords of Liquorice capture Princess Sunshine midway through the first act, and the leading, scheming brother between them sings a song that I imagined you might enjoy."

I stopped mid-chew and looked at him. "Wait a moment. Hold the crystal ball. Are you only asking me to perform for you so I can be blatantly typecast as the villain in your pretty, happy play?"

He didn't answer me, but to be fair, he didn't entirely have the chance. Just after opening his mouth, Mr. Thimble paused. A noise like a jumping spark from a firepit zinged across the energy field an instant later. He jolted to attention, straightening all the papers on his desk as the classroom door swung open on the other side of the room.

"Richard," greeted Principal Winkleglint, floating right up to him. He had his hands tucked in his pockets, the thumbs jabbing out. Mr. Thimble combed his fingers through his grey and ginger hair twice before he turned around. He still kept a stack of parchment clenched in his arms.

"Mr. Winkleglint. H-hello, sir."

I tilted my head. At Principal Winkleglint's sudden arrival, Mr. Thimble's face had turned as red as wine, and he kept fidgeting with his feet and his wings. Did he like Principal Winkleglint? Like, like-like? It was really quite sweet to see the stiff and logical man suddenly turn awkward and shy in the presence of emotions.

"We were interrupted this morning. I didn't even get to explain why I'd asked you to linger in my office. I noticed you were out late last night."

"You assigned me to a lot of errands," Mr. Thimble whispered.

"Mm." Principal Winkleglint took one of the papers from Mr. Thimble's hands, studied it, and lay it aside. "I asked you to drop off my outgoing mail and pick up anything that had come in. And yet for some reason, those letters I instructed you to mail ended up at the Scarletfeather place. Specklestar brought them to me this morning."

Mr. Thimble hesitated. "Mr. Scarletfeather intercepted me. I'm sorry, sir."

"I understand," Winkleglint said, taking hold of Mr. Thimble's tie. He pulled my teacher forward without breaking eye contact. "But of course, I trusted you, and you betrayed me. This means we have some business to take care of."

"Do we, sir?" The wine colour of his face had gotten brighter. He hugged his papers to his chest and flicked his eyes in my direction. "You realise there's a child-"

"A child," Principal Winkleglint scoffed, while I pricked my ears at this rare chance to witness a Seelie courting ritual. He walked his hands fist by fist up Mr. Thimble's tie. Each time he grasped it, he would give a sharp tug, jerking Mr. Thimble's head lower. "First you sneak out on me to see another gyne, and then you claim there's a pregnancy involved too. We both know you're sterile, and we both know you wouldn't go chasing Mrs. Scarletfeather when her husband smells  _so_  delicious. Don't play that game."

"Sir, that's not what I-" His voice died when Winkleglint pressed his tongue to his forehead. I could hear the soft squish against skin from where I sat, quietly swirling a thin potato skin in my tomatoes as I watched them. Mr. Thimble's high, twitching shoulders instantly relaxed. His wings stilled. They fluttered. Stilled. He muttered what was either a flirt or a Fairy curse word behind his teeth. His weight shifted, parchments rustling in his hands, and he licked his lips.

Then, without another glance in my direction, Mr. Thimble threw himself at Principal Winkleglint and instantly smeared his own tongue up and down his boss's neck. Winkleglint stumbled against the front chalkboard with a low chuckle, shoved there by whirring wings. I put back my ears. I couldn't predict Mr. Thimble's motions in advance, but I realised after a minute that his movements weren't nearly as erratic and random as they seemed. He was confining himself to a certain area, painting certain paths - certain symbols - with his own saliva. I'm sure they meant something to Seelie Courters, and it was really quite fascinating to watch.

"Good," Principal Winkleglint murmured when the smaller fairy, gasping, shaking, tongue dangling, eyes blinking rapidly, finally lowered his wings and slid away. "Now, loosen your collar."

The fingers of his free hand flew to the top button of his shirt. They hovered there, and then they dropped. "I… can't."

"Did I misspeak?" Principal Winkleglint tugged his tie again and returned to his routine of licking Mr. Thimble's forehead. He began to move downwards, closer to nose and lips. My teacher squirmed.

"No, sir- sir, please! It's embarrassing."

"Why so resistant today, Dick? It's not like anyone is-" Principal Winkleglint noticed me sitting at my desk for the first time. First, his jaw fell open, the tip of his pale tongue still pressed to the far side of Mr. Thimble's nose. Then he shut his mouth. His eyes narrowed. "-watching?"

He meant me. Realising this, I lifted my hands. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, sir. Please don't think I'm interrupting your special moment. I'm an anti-fairy. Because of the way my kind honey-lock three months following certain bodily contacts with their hosting counterparts, I witness some of the most intense public displays of affection nearly every day, and it's all buck teeth to the curls for me. Did you know, tongues happen to be involved in Anti-Fairy courting rituals too? For all our differences, it turns out our two races do have some similarities after all. I just think that's interesting. Well. I will eat quietly and not mind if you do your thing. I must admit, the customs of Seelie Courters are certainly curious. I think I'll enjoy learning them. I hope my presence doesn't bother you."

Mr. Thimble shot me a desperate glance, still pressing his papers to his chest with one arm. The fingers of his other hand wrapped around the edge of his desk until his knuckles turned white. Principal Winkleglint continued to hover there, with my teacher's tie clenched and twisted in his fist like a very short chain.

"Why are you here, Julius?" he asked after about ten seconds. "Children should eat lunch in the cafeteria."

"Oh, well, you know." I made a vague circular gesture with my hand and plucked up another deliciously salty potato skin. "I'm a new anti-fairy student in a class full of Seelie Courters. It's only to be expected that the other children should want to pick on me. I didn't really mind it, but Mr. Thimble gave me permission to eat in here for some time until their teasing dies down, and I accepted. He's fascinating to learn from."

Principal Winkleglint slid his eyes back to Mr. Thimble, who had already turned his face away and gulped audibly. "I see." Straightening then, he shoved my teacher back to the desk. The papers in his arms scattered, and Mr. Thimble's wings hit a stack of scrolls, knocking all of them to the ground. "Very well. Enjoy your lunch, boys. Richard, we will continue this discussion when we get home."

"Y-yes, sir."

The door swept magically shut on his heels. Mr. Thimble stayed trembling against his desk until the principal's wingbeats had vanished from even my hearing. Then he reached up and tugged his tie. The papers went down. He fixed his collar, then the hem of his shirt, and began to smooth his hair.

"I'm… sorry you had to see that, Julius," he mumbled in my general direction. "That wasn't my intention. I didn't think he would."

"Oh, no apologies necessary, sir. I didn't mind. You Seelie Courters are absolutely intriguing."

Mr. Thimble winced, still plucking at the few streaks of grey in his hair. "For my sake, let's keep this between us. I do my best to present myself as respectable to the students I educate. I assume I can treat you as an adult, and trust you not to spread word of what transpired here among your more gossip-prone classmates."

I nodded enthusiastically as I carried my empty tray to the trash can. "Certainly, sir, certainly. I'm very mature for my age, and you ought not to worry about your reputation in my hands. I hope you realise that I respect you a great deal."

He smiled wearily, easing into his chair. "Even after that?"

"Whyever not? I knew when I came here that I would face culture shock of every sort. What happened here is hardly the most intimate exchange I've borne witness to in my young life, believe you me. My people are Anti-Fairies, after all, and cannot always control our own urges once the honey-lock kicks in. Honey-locked Anti-Fairies are a common sight where I'm from, and as such, we simply normalise such expressed emotions and displays. I'm only sorry if I caused you any inconvenience." I paused, tapping my chin, turned, and approached his desk with quick steps. "If I may tell you something, sir?"

"Yes, Anti-Lunifly?" he asked, peering down at me.

"I hope I'm not being too nosy, but well, I'm from Anti-Fairy World, and since we live in communities, I've seen a lot of couples fight. I think I know how you can make things up to your husband."

Mr. Thimble's entire face, from his neck to his ears, turned red again. "Mr. Winkleglint is not my husband."

Oops. I glanced down at his hands, and specifically at the middle finger on his right hand which didn't bear a ring. "Um. Your boyfriend? Well, anyway, I think you should surprise him tonight. Clean your home and have food prepared before he arrives. Dress in something nice, something with buttons that he can undo later. Use your nonverbal cues. You'll know he's in the mood if he picks them up. Take advantage of that, and pleasure him fiercely with kisses and nonsense words. Drakes overwhelmingly prefer lovers who are wild with them- it's a known fact. If you live that life often, then he'll never want to leave you."

Mr. Thimble waited until I was done, holding one pale hand to his still-flushing cheek. When I had finished, he lowered the hand and leaned forward. "Your romantic advice is appreciated, Anti-Lunifly, though I'm afraid it won't be necessary. My relationship with Mr. Winkleglint, along with our exchange today, remains strictly professional."

I blinked. "I hear your words, sir, but I noticed he said you live with him, and it appears clear that you like him considerably."

"Oh, um- no. How do I explain this to an Unseelie pup…" Mr. Thimble drummed his fingers. His face started to return to its normal colour. Then he said, "You're an anti-fairy. You understand living in communities. In fact, my counterpart informed me that you reside in the Blue Castle itself. Let me think. High Count Anti-Bryndin. You know him. He lives in the same home as many damsels and many drakes. Even though he lives with them, is he romantically involved with all of them?"

"Um…"

"On second thought, don't answer that. I briefly forgot you're a promiscuous culture and he is, of course, the High Count. Hmm." He tapped his nails one final time, loudly and sharply, and then spread his fingers flat. "What do you know about genies, Anti-Lunifly?"

"Genies?" Technically, since he'd rattled off the seven Fomorian tribes that morning, it was the third time I'd ever heard the word. It had been but a fleeting thought in my head. Now I repeated it slowly, sounding out each letter. "I don't think I know anything about genies, sir."

"Genies are an ancient, powerful race who lived on a red planet in Earth's solar system, Mars, eons ago. The environment was perfect for them, because it was rich in iron and the regular temperature changes made it possible for them to reproduce. However, when the environment… shifted, the genies, foops, and other less-famous creatures who lived on that planet were relocated by the Eros family."

I nodded. I knew foops: Wolf-like animals with pelts that shimmered, always reflecting the precise colour of the sky in their present location. And I knew the Eros family: Pink-haired and usually pink-dressed cherubs who armed themselves with bows and arrows and for countless generations had claimed it was their holy duty as a family to preserve breeding pairs or families of every last animal species in the universe in that great zoo of theirs in Fairy World, the Eros Nest. Anti-Venus Anti-Eros was the one who had captured me back when I was only smoke and stuffed me in a jar, after all.

"For their own safety, genies were contained in magical bottles and boxes, many of which were inadvertently scattered all across the cloudlands, and the Earth below. The destructive rampage of King Elynas some 370,000 years ago resulted in most of them being lost and buried underground. Though, here and there, you can still find a few about the cloudlands."

"The genies can't escape the magical bottles?" I asked, wondering how such powerful magical creatures had agreed to this plan if it were really for the survival of their species. Had they really been so desperate to preserve themselves, they would sacrifice even their freedom?

"The bottles cannot be opened from the inside, and we Fairykind are unable to affect the bottles magically. Magic cannot affect magical objects, after all. So even if you were to find such a bottle, it would be impossible to open. The genie would remain imprisoned inside." Mr. Thimble pulled his tie again with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm like a genie. Mr. Winkleglint is the one who keeps me contained."

I shrugged. "Yes, and it's rather obvious that you've been courting him. So you're like his husband and my advice is still useful."

"I never said I-" Mr. Thimble covered his face again, eyes squeezed shut as I looked curiously on. He pulled his hands down to his chin, forefingers balanced against his lips. "That's not important. The point is, I'm as bound to him as a genie is to whomever rubs their lamp."

"Really? You don't have a betrothal ring on your hand." I held mine up so he could see. He didn't look. "I was promised to a damsel named Mona from the day of my first participatory Tarrow celebration. This simple, unadorned ring is blue because I'm a Water year, while she herself wears a pale brown betrothal ring because she's a Soil. When we're married, we'll get black rings with each other's coloured zodiac gem set on the band instead."

"Yes. I can see there's no parallel of the concept in your culture, so I'll just explain it. "Mr. Winkleglint?" Mr. Thimble laughed bitterly into his hands, still without opening his eyes. "There are some days when I just hate him."

I tipped my head to one side, lowering my hand. "Oh. That does come as a surprise to me. Then why do you live with him?"

"Because I have to. He's a gyne, and as a drone, I'm bound to his service. I can't leave his side without permission."

"I see… Um, I don't see much, though. What are gynes and drones?"

Automatically, Mr. Thimble dropped his hands to the desk and scooted his chair forward. Teaching seemed to be the one area where he could be dominant, and it snapped him back to the cool-headed persona I knew him as instantly. "There are three orders of dominance among the Seelie Court. Among the Unseelie, there are only two. The most common rank of all is known as 'kabouter'. That's what your counterpart is, and we call their counterparts by the same name."

"That sounds vaguely familiar. So Fairy-Cosmo is a kabouter, and so am I." I thought that I could remember that. It was just another label to add to my endless list of categorizations. I was an Unseelie Courter by social convention, I was an Anti-Fairy by ethnicity, I was a common anti-fairy by race, I was a drake by gender, I was of the Anti-Lunifly family, I was a resident of the Blue Castle by noble lineage, I was a member of the Anti-Coppertalon colony by the location of my mother, I was a Water year according to the time of my birth by the Fairy zodiac, I was an iris because I'd been born with the same eye colour as my counterpart - green - instead of the default red of most Anti-Fairies, I was a subject of the High South Region and represented on the Anti-Fairy World Council by the Navy Robe, I was  _supposed_  to become an acolyte and train as an architect so I might learn to balance the universe's karma in the hopes that it might steady at its homeostasis point, and I was a kabouter by biology. So many strange concepts for an eight-year-old mind to properly identify and recall, but let's not forget, I am legally considered a genius. Labels make everything so much easier, don't they? Perhaps Anti-Fairies really do have the sharpest minds.

"Yes. All damsels are by law kabouters. There are many kabouter drakes too, and all counterparts of drones are referred to as kabouters, because that's the way they seem to function. Unlike gynes and drones, kabouters are actually  _less_  bound to the biological instincts of the patron whom they share their wings with. As such, they are considered the most evolved of the three ranks."

I nodded. "Kabouters are farther removed from their actual bat, or in your case insect, cousins, and don't share nearly as many behaviors and instincts. So what's a gyne?"

"A gyne is a drakian member of the Seelie Court identifiable by his dark facial spots, called freckles. Gynes are by default larger than your average kabouter. They're light on their feet, strong in the arms, powerful in the wings, and they always smell…" Mr. Thimble stared into space, smiling slightly, and closed his eyes. "Dazzling."

"Why are some Fairies born gynes?"

"Hm?" He blinked. "Oh, um. No one knows. We only know that their counterparts show freckled faces once they moult from their baby exoskeletons, and that anyone who solved the mystery would become very famous very quickly. Purple freckles among your people, and golden among the Refracted. Among Anti-Fairies, these freckles are linked with the gene that gives them the appearance of growing black facial hair."

"Facial… hair?"

"The stripes of black fur that appear around the mouth. Others appear on the chest as well." Mr. Thimble made motions with his fingers down his face as though painting on a moustache and goatee. "Anti-Fairies who show the freckles and this black fur pattern are called 'pilots'."

"Like Anti-Bryndin," I realised.

"Yes, although for aesthetic reasons, he tends to keep his moustache clipped, allowing only his black goatee to grow out. I've heard he used to wipe constantly at his face, thinking he had food smeared above his lips all the time."

There was a beat of pause as I tried to figure out whether that line was meant as an insult to my kind. Had Mr. Thimble just implied that the High Count was too dumb to recognise the difference between fur and food?

"Refracts have feathers instead of Anti-Fairy fur or oily Fairy skin," he went on before I could work up the courage to ask him, "so their 'plume' traits manifest in two great blue plumes. These blue plumes curl from above their eyes and over their shoulders, like antennae."

The word "antennae" didn't sound at all familiar to me.

"As with Seelie gynes, pilots and plumes regularly find themselves tied to the instincts of their patron species, unable to shake many natural biological urges that don't hold sway over kabouters, although of course for your people, pilots error on the side of bat, not the side of insect."

Once Mr. Thimble finished, he looked expectantly at me, like he'd forgotten what my actual question had been and he required further prompting to continue being the one to speak. I said, "Can you elaborate on gyne behaviors, sir?"

"Gynes are viciously territorial creatures. It's why even when they're this young, we separate them so there are never more than two gynes attending the same class. The number used to be one, but times are changing. The number of gynes in Fairy World is increasing, and we've had to make adjustments. Anyway, Anti-Fairies such as yourself have a notoriously poor sense of smell. Your ancestors didn't inherit that from the Aos Sí when you split apart. So, you probably didn't pick up on Mr. Winkleglint's scent when he barged in here."

I tried to think back, tapping my teeth. "Well, now that you've mentioned it, I think I detected a faint banana scent lingering in the air while he was fluttering about."

Mr. Thimble's fingers twitched. "I assure you, it was much stronger for me. You Anti-Fairies don't produce notable pheromones. We Seelie Courters release pheromones wherever we go. However, kabouter pheromones are rather weak. Drone pheromones are weaker still. Gyne pheromones are dramatically more dominant, instantly commanding attention the moment they enter a room. As such, they frequently attract more damsels than kabouters do, which is beneficial to them. Kabouters are capable of producing either kabouter or gyne offspring. The son of a gyne will always be either a drone or another gyne. Gynes produce kabouters only if they bear a daughter. The majority of drones are born sterile, which limits the father's ability to spread his genes. As such, he is biologically driven to seek out many damsels in the hopes of producing many nymphs who can continue his line."

"Oh, your father is a gyne too?"

"He was. He died. Though, the drones who aren't born sterile can produce drones too." Mr. Thimble paused, then went briskly on. "Two or even more gynes can get by in the same area so long as one of them is clearly subordinate. But when the pheromones of two dominant gynes clash, their instincts kick in, and they fight one another to the death until only one comes out victorious." He said it so casually, without hesitation. I studied his face with my ears flattened. Truly, he was a man intent on relaying bare facts without a hint of sugarcoating.

My wings twitched. "Gynes who fight always kill each other, sir?"

"Nearly always. Things are admittedly beginning to change in modern times. While most gyne fights do end in death, it isn't completely unheard of for the more dominant one to let the subordinate one go, when it is clear the pecking order has been established. The dominant gyne's pheromones are the strongest, and a gyne who has become subordinate will produce more subtle pheromones."

"I see," I said, wishing I were taking orderly notes, or could return to this whole conversation later for future reference. "Quite fascinating, really. And what of drones?"

Mr. Thimble locked his fingers together on his desk and leaned back in his chair. "Drones like me are the lowest rung on the Seelie dominance ladder, and cannot be distinguished from kabouters on the surface the way gynes, pilots, or plumes can. However, like gynes, drones are biologically wired with powerful insect instincts in their blood. To be born a drone is to be born a lifelong servant. We are drawn to gyne pheromones, and attend to the needs of the most dominant gyne in the area, whether those needs include physical grooming, cleaning houses, tending to gardens and crops, raising his nymphs, or, well…"

"You mean, holding the position of a teacher at his school?"

He shrugged. "A subordinate gyne who kills a more dominant gyne will inherit his drones. So long as Mr. Winkleglint is the dominant gyne in the area, he owns my soul. Should he become subordinate, or die, I will be left abandoned and dysfunctional until another gyne takes me under his wing and puts me to work. With Mr. Winkleglint's pheromones in my nostrils, I couldn't leave this school even if I wanted to. I'm in a better position than many drones. I'm fortunate enough to hold a job that I love. Any other questions?"

My ears twitched even lower. I gaped at him. Finally I managed to say, "Oh, that's simply  _awful_. You really can't leave him? And you have to live in his home against your will, subject to his every whim, even if he should choose to torture you? Why, even our servants approach the Blue Castle asking for jobs willingly, and they're free to go if they choose to resign."

Mr. Thimble stared down at his interlocked fingers. "Well. We're Fairies."

"Then Fairy society is outrageously horrid and cruel!"

He snapped up his head. "Anti-Lunifly, it's the way of things. Don't mock our culture."

"I can and I will, because it's not right! You shouldn't have to work for someone you don't like in the least. You can't let abusers of power push you around just because they were born into that position." So saying, I spun on my heels and marched to the door. "I'm going to find Principal Winkleglint and give him a piece of my mind."

"Oh my dust." With two  _poof_ s, Mr. Thimble disappeared from behind his desk and reappeared in front of me. "Anti-Lunifly, you will stay right here where I can see you. You are eight years old. You haven't even had your  _canetis_. Mr. Winkleglint is eight  _hundred millennia_  your senior, and a gyne. Don't interfere with matters beyond your understanding."

I crossed my arms. "Well, as near as I can figure,  _you're_  certainly not going to. Do you want him to punish you just because you were resistant to his command that you take off your shirt today? Do you want to live the rest of your life scrambling to please him, only for him to be disappointed no matter how hard you try? Do you want to spend the rest of your life never knowing what true happiness is?"

Mr. Thimble bowed his head. "I, er, have to."

"Why, you're a coward!"

"A living coward."

My fists clenched, along with my teeth. I thrust my hand beneath the buttons of my suit, wriggled it beneath my undershirt, and felt my way to my pouch. One of the blessing tokens I'd stuffed in there had to grant me strength in a situation like this one. Winni's leopard, symbolising the powers of Communication?

"Let me pass, you big poor abused oaf. I intend to speak with that monster of a drake."

Mr. Thimble fluttered nervously back and forth in the air, wringing his hands around and around together in the hem of his shirt. "Anti-Lunifly, you don't understand. Winkleglint is a gyne. A powerful, dominant gyne. He fights and  _kills_  challengers who oppose him."

"I'm an anti-fairy, effectively immortal until my hosting counterpart himself dies," I fired back, lifting my chin and my wings. My hand slid away from the beryl leopard and wrapped around Sunnie's turquoise turtle. Its spiraled shell fit snuggly against my palm. "He can't cause the death of a smoky hair on my head."


	7. Full House

_In which Julius participates in his first (and most likely last) study abroad experience in Fairy World, and uncovers the tale of Anti-Dusty Anti-Fairywinkle_

* * *

I am fire.

No Anti-Fairy ever, ever does what I am about to do. Principal Winkleglint is not of my colony, and I have no right to approach him to speak. Especially not on a matter like this. He's an authority, and I? I am a foreigner, a student, eight years old, and a younger brother. My single claim to fame lies in the green eyes that declare my noble lineage, which itself is only a sprig off the Anti-Coppertalon branch by my mother's nature of being Anti-Bryndin's third wife.

But I won't stand for this cruelty.

The school secretary granted me entrance to Winkleglint's office, either because she assumed my intent was to swim through the portal home to Anti-Fairy World for lunch / recess break, or because my obvious frustration encouraged her to pull away and not ask too many questions. My hand was no longer in my pouch, but I kept Saturn's ruby lizard clenched in my fist. Saturn's mastery included boundless Energy, fiery passion, and both emotional and physical strength. If there was one nature spirit whose blessings I needed to call upon right now, it was him.

When I pushed my way in, I found Winkleglint sitting at his wide desk, examining the contents of some sort of small chest that appeared to glow with every known colour in the universe at the same time. Or rather, the box was open on the desk, and Winkleglint's eyes were lacking pupils. He sat slouched, head on his folded arms and eyes glittering and gleamed with rainbows. That must be a "time lockbox", then, which played old memories in vivid detail so long as you held the proper access key. Quite useful in court cases.

I'd heard of these boxes, though hadn't figured out yet how to get my hands on one of my own. It instantly vaporized when he noticed me. A simple wooden key bounced across the desk in its place. Winkleglint blinked his eyes back to their normal scarlet tint.

"Julius?" he asked, straightening in his seat. I could have sworn the stringy pink hairs combed around his ears bushed out with unease as he took me in. He was indeed a gyne as Mr. Thimble had said- the dark brown freckles all across his face were proof enough of it.

Leaping onto a nearby chair, I slammed my fists against the top of his desk. Saturn's lizard clinked hard against the polished wood. "Principal Winkleglint, I wish to file an enormous complaint."

He sighed. Placing a single finger to his cheek, he leaned across his desk. "My utmost apologies for behaving the way I did in front of a pup. I was at fault and I assure you, it will not happen again."

"That's not why I'm here!" I slammed my open hand down again. "It's about Mr. Thimble. He doesn't like you. He's a slave teaching here at Spellementary, and I do wish you would let him go. Drones yearn to be free. Hasn't he worked for you long enough?"

Principal Winkleglint watched me silently, and then made a steeple with his fingers. "Julius, you are an anti-fairy - a young one, too - and this matter is beyond your comprehension."

"I'm old enough to recognise domestic violence!" Tears sprang to my eyes before I could stop them. I wiped them off with my sleeve.

"Domestic-" Winkleglint stopped. He blinked. "Oh… I see what the problem is."

"Do you now?" I snarked. "What? That you're not but a manipulative, abusive hog intent on crushing those devoted to you beneath your heel like an unwanted jackalope in the herb gardens?"

He looked at my sharply. I realised all of what I'd spat, and my ears cooled with embarrassment. "I- I mean…"

"You're an Anti-Fairy," he said dismissively, and I had the distinct impression he was including the entirety of my people in his comment. "You don't understand the nuances of the situation."

"The nuances?" I questioned, biting back my bubbling temper. "What, pray tell, are the nuances involved here that, if I am not mistaken, you intend to use to justify the nature of your chronic emotional abuse?"

Winkleglint glanced behind me at the door, as though checking to determine whether his secretary was about to come bounding in. She did not. Instead, he pushed his chair away from his desk and rose to his wings. I watched, narrow-eyed, as he crossed over to a mounted shelf on the other side of the office. He selected not a bound stack of parchments or a scroll, but a small white box stamped with the Fairy Council seal- a golden crown flanked by a pair of long insect wings. I did not miss the fact that the bat wings were absent from the design. This white box, he carried back to me.

"At the end of every zodiac cycle," Winkleglint said, "just before the New Year, all Fairykind with their permanent residence listed in the cloudlands turn in their census data. You Anti-Fairies do that sort of thing every seven years during your annual migrations, don't you?"

"I'm not allowed to migrate further than Navy Park until I'm at least a century old."

Winkleglint shrugged. He flipped open the hinged lid of the box. I leaned across the desk, and he came around to my side so I could better see as he rifled through a series of what appeared to be small squares of yellow parchment. "Like most gynes, I'm registered to receive information at the turn of every cycle about all the other gynes residing in Fairy World. The cards in this box list pheromone profiles. Gynes like me can determine information from the scents embedded in each card, like whether the pheromone donor was a dominant or subordinate gyne at the time of the census. A gyne with drones can't be subordinate, you see. It works both ways."

"Blimey. Can you really get all that from a mere smell?"

"It's a Fairy thing. The cards also list addresses and the number of drones in each gyne's care."

"So you can hunt each other down and eliminate them in secret?" I asked, aghast. My fist tightened around Saturn's lizard.

Winkleglint smiled. "Or, so we can avoid each other. There used to be a law about it, you know." His eyes dropped back to the box. "Most gynes organize their data files by location, but since I'm a school principal, I prefer to organize mine alphabetically on behalf of myself and other faculty members when parents plan to visit our school."

Mr. Thimble had mentioned rival gynes would fight one another to the death if given the opportunity. Did that extend to even brief meetings, like picking one's child up from class? My wings shivered. Fairies certainly were a cruel, bloodthirsty lot. How could it be that an entire society built itself up with the desire to be so malicious?

The cards fluttered in the box as Winkleglint shuffled through them. They were all labeled (Oh, so the Fairies  _can_  write in our language- they just choose not to). Dozens of names flashed before my eyes, blurring and colliding in an unsortable fray. Winkleglint slowed as he reached the  _W_  section. He hit  _Wh_  before  _Wi_ , and I snapped to attention.

"Wait a moment. Can I see that one?" I pressed one knuckle against my lips. "You have a card for a Fergus S. Whimsifinado. Is that Fergusius Alexander Whimsifinado? He's a gyne?"

Winkleglint looked at me in some surprise. "Do you know him?"

"I'm… somewhat aware of his counterpart," I returned the ruby lizard to the pouch beneath my shirt as surreptitiously as I could manage. Come to think of it, it made sense. Mr. Thimble had mentioned the black stripes of fur that marked a pilot's face like facial hair, and Anti-Robin had always drawn such patterns in his sketches of Anti-Fergusius.

"Of course. The green bat."

"You know him too?"

Winkleglint removed the Whimsifinado square from his box and turned it over between his fingers. "Only that Mother Nature named a year after him about 362,000 years ago. My daughter Sindri was born in the following cohort."

He handed the card to me. Whimsifinado's permanent address was listed, but the card had a large X drawn through the middle in green. The words above it read,  _Outdated and therefore unconfirmed data._  I pointed my claw. "I say, it would seem that some Fairy out collecting census data isn't doing their job. Fergus doesn't appear to have a current pheromone profile."

Winkleglint narrowed his eyes. "Tax evader."

"Ah." Eyeballing him, I lifted the scrap of parchment to my nose and breathed in the scent. So this was what Fairy-Fergusius smelled like: all sugary-sweet, oily-slippery, and dusted with a smoky tang that I could taste on the roof of my mouth. It was, um… His pheromones smelled like a certain brown party cookie that I didn't have a name for, and technically wasn't supposed to know about until I was older. He smelled like one of the spices I'd once sniffed Anti-Robin and Augustus using in the kitchen. Had his counterpart smelled anything like this, I wondered? Did gyne pheromones manifest for pilots in any way? I poked the tip of my tongue from my mouth, trying to imagine what Anti-Robin might have tasted on his lover's green lips when he came in for a kiss.

Winkleglint took the card away before I could get in a second whiff, but not before I read the address printed down the left side:  _37_   _Twilight Road_ ,  _Novakiin, Central Star Region._ A fleeting thought scuttled across my brain: Should I, perhaps, seek this Fergus Whimsifinado out? Anti-Fairies weren't exactly permitted to wander Fairy World, but I could possibly write him a letter. My father had only mentioned meeting him in his notes once, but could they have met on other occasions as well? Or at least, was Fairy-Fergus familiar with his own counterpart? Might he know more of the green anti-fairy than even Anti-Robin?

All such thoughts passed through my mind in the twitch of a wing. Underneath Fergus Whimsifinado's address, in caps, were the words,  _STATUS: AWOL._

Right. Tax evader. Why should he want anything to do with me anyway? Even if he should grace my letter with a response, or suggest the two of us meet somewhere we could find neutral ground, I could offer him nothing for his time. Why should he choose to let me sap his energy that way without some sort of gift in return?

Winkleglint returned Whimsifinado's card to the box, and handed his own card to me instead. "Let's end on a high note. Take a whiff of that."

I did, with less enthusiasm. Winkleglint's card didn't smell like very much of anything, besides old people. Definitely not as strong as the spicy tang clinging to Fergus' card that made me want to jump up and dance, even though his pheromones were outdated. I tried again. "Um… I can smell the ink. And bananas."

He laughed at me. Lightly, but he did, while I shifted my wings. "I suppose you have to be a Fairy to identify most of it. Well." He gestured at the card. "That card is my entire identity translated into pheromone cues. Were you to wave that card in front of any drone's face for long enough, they'd quickly fall under your spell, thinking you were me."

" _Rrr_ eally?" How very interesting and probably very illegal. I set the card on the desk, wondering what might come of a future where gynes exchanged pheromone cards the way we Anti-Fairy children collected and swapped umbra scrolls at our dueling corner near the Luna's Landing market. I wondered, too, if there was any reason why Winkleglint's scent hadn't affected me as much as Fergus', which still clung to the insides of my nostrils. Perhaps it was his age. "Nonetheless, my point remains standing. Mr. Thimble doesn't like you. The proper thing to do then is let him go. He shouldn't be expected to serve someone he doesn't enjoy being around."

Winkleglint studied me with half-lidded eyes, then inclined his head. "I have a proposition for you, Julius."

"Oh? Do tell."

He removed his hand from beneath his chin. "You're part of the Anti-Coppertalon colony, aren't you? Anti-Bryndin recommended you to me personally. Perfect. Now, what I want you to do when you get home to his castle is, inform him that I am interested in granting you a study abroad opportunity in Fairy World."

My mouth fell open. "I- I can go to Fairy World? I've never been allowed before."

"Because Anti-Elina is training you to be an acolyte. I remember." He paused. A predatory sort of smile began to push its way through his lips. "How did the dear High Countess react when she heard Anti-Bryndin intended to send you here? I imagine she was livid her precious protégé was being exposed to an education that would allow for more varied and exciting career options."

I frowned. "I… I know she allowed it. She and the High Count came to a mutual agreement. As legal equals, she has the authority to overturn any of his decisions, you know, and he hers. So she must have agreed. He wouldn't force his High Countess into anything she disapproved of."

"Of course not." Winkleglint straightened his back. His dangling wings fluttered up. "But yes. Should you be willing to participate in this study abroad opportunity, and Anti-Bryndin permitting, I will take you to Fairy World for two weeks, where you can stay with me at my home. You can observe firsthand how the Seelie Court live."

I narrowed my eyes. "Will Mr. Thimble be there?"

"Of course. I will hire a substitute to take his place here at the school. Mr. Thimble and my three other drones will be staying with us." Winkleglint leaned back, pulling his arms with him until they dropped from the desk to his lap. "During your study abroad experience, I will refrain from exposing my drones to my pheromones."

"How, if you're still there?"

Winkleglint raised both his eyebrows. They came down again. "Gyne pheromones quickly wash off in water. Once you get settled in my place of residence, I'll ask Richard to take a bath. During that time, you and I will clean all traces of my pheromones from my home, except for the ones in my own bedroom. And, I suppose, in the room where you'll be staying, along with any guardian from the Castle whom Anti-Bryndin consents for you to bring along. For two weeks, you can watch how the other half lives. You will be permitted to stop your study abroad early at any time. Do you agree to this?"

My claws were embedded in the wood of his desk. I grit my teeth. My wings strained against their ties. "That sounds excellent. Anti-Bryndin permitting, I accept."

Winkleglint smiled, his hands still folded in his lap. "All right, then. Ask the High Count to contact me as soon as possible so we can begin the arrangements."

"Believe me, sir, I do intend to." I shoved myself away from his desk, hopped off the chair, and fumed the entire way back to the classroom. Mr. Thimble still sat behind his own small, pale desk, stiff and mortified. He watched me take my seat again without saying anything. When the bell to signal the end of lunch rang, he asked, "How did it go?"

"I settled things with Winkleglint. Soon enough, you won't have to worry about him anymore."

I didn't know how to respond when he let out a long groan and smothered his face in his hands. Or why Anti-Bryndin did the same thing when I explained the whole situation to him too.

I was allowed to sleep until a natural Anti-Fairy hour the next morning. Once I'd woken and bid a whispered good-bye to Mona, Anti-Buster waded through the portal after me to speak with Winkleglint in person and offer himself as my chaperone. Frankly, I imagine he was only too happy to get out of the Castle and away from Anti-Bryndin, who seemed to be constantly barking orders about this and that in preparation for the eventual birth of his pup. To my amazement, Anti-Buster actually left the precious red First General cloak at home, tucked away safe in a box.

"So you do have wings after all," I had mused when he turned away from it.

"Of course, sir," he'd sniffed. His black hair was short. Shiny in the right light and always kept close to his ears. He carried a box of supplies for us during our stay, and I also had a pack at my side.

"What is it like in Fairy World, Anti-Buster?" I asked him now, climbing the tall steps from Winkleglint's portal to his office. "I almost think it isn't fair, Spellementary School lying on neutral ground a skip across the cosmos. I should like to visit Fairy World every day."

At the top, Anti-Buster shifted the box he carried to his left arm and reached out to take my shoulder. "Now, sir. You must realise that we are paying a visit to a family of status. Do think carefully about all you say, and try not to come off as condescending." He wrinkled his nose. "Even if Fairy society is a little backwards."

I nodded, keeping my mouth firmly shut. I was doing this for Mr. Thimble. It wouldn't do if I was sent home before I even made it to Fairy World.

Anti-Buster turned the knob on the door. It opened with a light creak. Winkleglint was waiting for us, leaning against his desk and facing the door with his feet crossed at the ankles, much the way Anti-Bryndin had been when I stepped into his office to inquire about my options at Spellementary School. The similarities ended there.

"Oh," I said when I saw him. Winkleglint raised his eyebrows.

"I see you've guessed that I live in the country."

He certainly didn't look it. Rather than a flat hat and a nice blue jacket (emblazoned on one side perhaps with a symbol of a mountain to represent Twis and the influence of Soil in our lives), Winkleglint wore a shirt checked with pink and white. A white hat with a pink stripe and wide brim had been pushed between his head and his crown. His blue pants were roughened with streaks of purple cloud muck. They were torn in one place so I could see his skin, but mostly decorated in patches so bright, I could tell for myself that their colours were intended to be focused on rather than politely ignored. I was half embarrassed to look at him dressed in raggedy clothes such as that.

"Oh." My wings drooped. "The country, you say? I thought I might get to see a Fairy city. I've heard they're daunting with their tall buildings, bright colours, and gently curved streets." What did the Fairy countryside have apart from endless boring hills of clouds?

"We're not here to sight-see," Anti-Buster reminded me, nudging my shoulder. "You offended Winkleglint, and you're going to learn the Fairy ways and apologise."

"What?" I whirled to face him, jabbing with my finger. "But he forces-"

"Shh." Anti-Buster pressed down on my wrist, bringing my hand back to my side. "It's impolite to point, sir. Remember your manners."

I glared at him, puffing out my cheeks. "Is Mr. Thimble all right?" I asked instead.

Anti-Buster nudged me again, the energy field prickling with warning leaf rustles.

Winkleglint nodded. "He's at home, and you'll see him soon. I'm glad you came, Julius."

"So am I."

Anti-Buster set down the box he carried and extended his hands, and Winkleglint lay his own face-up in his palms so Anti-Buster could examine them. Once he had, Winkleglint turned his attention to me. But instead of holding out both hands, he held out just his left. It was tilted sideways. I looked at it, then at Anti-Buster. He only nodded. This must be the greeting Fairies gave to someone of lower status, then.

Hesitantly, I touched my left hand against Winkleglint's. He closed his fingers around it. I flinched and yanked my arm away.

"You'll get it someday," Winkleglint said as the energy field around us began to echo with cheery flute music in amusement. My face stung. I took a step closer to Anti-Buster, wishing that instead of dressing in all black, he'd brought the red cloak. I would have liked to tuck myself away behind it.

"We've brought our things," Anti-Buster told him, gesturing with one wing at the box at his feet, and the bag on my shoulder. "Will you be  _poof_ ing us to your home, sir?"

"Actually, no." Winkleglint checked his pockets, and to my amazement, pulled out an entire carrot with a huge leafy top. "The charms in place around school premises prevent anyone from  _poof_ ing directly in or out, and you'll have to pass through customs anyway. I've brought my carriage. It isn't far."

Winkleglint and I, as it turned out, had very different ideas regarding what constituted as "far". "Not far" would be the distance between the Blue Castle and the old Anti-Eros tower with its ravaged gardens and crumbled ruins that to this day still smouldered with endless flickers of green Ghostfire. "Not far" would be the distance between that tower and the Barrier just across the hills. "Not far" wasn't intended to cover a slow and uninspiring trip through the starry sky in a carriage drawn by two winged horsies, followed by at least a quarter of an hour spent convincing the border guards of Plane 6 that yes, we did intend to pass legally through the Barrier, and yes, we were traveling in the company of this Fairy man we had with us, and yes, we would remain in his company the entire time, and yes, he didn't live far enough over the border for us to require a second Fairy escort. I say we could have met Winkleglint after passing through the Barrier on our own, but he insisted, and I had no choice.

"You actually live on Plane 4?" I asked Winkleglint when he came back from the counter. The Fairies behind it had approved our passports, and now they were just preparing to open their doggy door of a gate in the infinitely-, impossibly-tall iron fence that kept my kind and theirs firmly apart, from Plane 13 down to Plane 1. We stood in a small room decorated terribly with white tiles and white walls, and frankly, I could see why Anti-Buster and I were the only Anti-Fairies here. This was a smaller crossing station than the one I'd snuck out to visit once with Mona, Caden, and Augustus. Even those who often made pilgrimages to the Zodiac Temples did so at the actual Divide Gate. There, they could be attended to in a station outfitted with karma-balancing Anti-Fairy decor. Not this glistening, cold rubbish. I kept in my chair, refusing to let my feet touch the floor any more than they had to. I didn't want all that negative energy crawling up my legs.

"What's wrong with Plane 4?" Winkleglint asked, handing back out passport badges.

Anti-Buster glanced down at me. "Julius only knows the Planes of Existence as they manifest beneath the Sunset Skies."

"Oh," he realised. "You Anti-Fairies have the barren half of the Barrenglades in your world. I'd forgotten."

"So it isn't all soot and acid geysers on your side?" I asked, wondering how long it would take me to get offended at the notion. In fact, it was Winkleglint who seemed more surprised that I would suggest such a thing.

"Oh, no. Plane 4 is lush with beautiful ipewood forests. You don't have many ipewoods in Anti-Fairy World, do you? Well, their tall trunks are white and decorated with black stripes and swirls. Their leaves bloom in yellows and golds. Where you have acid, we have ponds and lakes of beautiful water spouting up from the clouds below."

Suffice to say, this did not put me in a pleasant mood. As I'd heard it, once upon a time, the whole cloudlands had been united underneath a mutual starry sky. It was the War of the Sunset Divide that split us apart, with decades of magical warfare bitterly scarring the skyscape. Now the pale purple-blue light in Fairy World never set, and we Anti-Fairies were left to thrive beneath skies of red and orange. Which wouldn't have all been so bad, had the landscape not suffered from the permanent switch in their usual sunlight. Rotting trees. Dying forests. Even when one acknowledges the fact that we Anti-Fairies could regenerate from anything that killed a Fairy so long as our hosting counterpart remained alive, how was it fair that they stole the glorious woodlands for themselves, and the half of Plane 4 we'd been left with was a barren place tormented by oozing acid and erosion?

I watched through narrow eyes as Winkleglint whipped a bit of fabric from his pocket. It looked to be some sort of large kerchief, and when he tapped it with his wand, it instantly soaked itself as though dunked in water. Winkleglint slapped the kerchief around his throat in a loop, then began to tie it at the front. "My gyne pheromones are secreted from patches along my neck," he explained. "With this wet scarf in the way, they'll die down. My drones will notice it soon enough, and they'll start treating me like a simple kabouter."

"What about a baseline phase for our experiment?" I asked. "You know, the part where we record how things normally are for a few days or weeks before we start altering the conditions of the environment. Isn't that the proper way to execute a scientific study?"

"Believe me," Winkleglint said, rolling his eyes, "my estate is blanketed in plenty of my pheromones. Even when I'm scarfing myself, and even after we use water and magic to scrub away as many as we can, it will take at least two days for them to wear off. That's your baseline."

"Scarfing" was a curious word, I thought.

The Fairies at customs came back to wave us through the chink they'd made in the Barrier. I tightened my grip on my bag as I followed Winkleglint and Anti-Buster back outside to where we'd left the carriage. Ipewood forests of Plane 4, here I come.

The gate opened onto a pretty mountainside, which hadn't been my first guess when Winkleglint described his home as the country. As he'd promised, the spiralled tree trunks were black and white, and the leaves that enveloped us gleamed with an almost metallic glint of gold. The horses stepped lightly onto the path of trampled vapor, their wings prickling up. "It isn't far," Winkleglint assured us again when I sent him a questioning look. "Just down the mountain. I bought the place as soon as I heard the news that I would be Spellementary's principal. It makes commuting easy."

The carriage started forward down the cliffside path. First at a slight canter, and rapidly at a thundering speed. I looked over the side to my right, and my words caught in my throat.

"Whoa…"

Even I, passionate about the Blue Castle's garden of black and phosphorescent flora, had to acknowledge Fairy World's beauty. I craned my neck so far over the carriage's side, Anti-Buster had to grab hold of me by the back of my tunic. Far below us, I could make out buildings like a little villa nestled in a glade between the golden treetops. That twinkle of blue was perhaps a pond, a short stretch of green was probably a garden, and that ridge with the long, narrow break in the forest must be the edge of the cloud. Our ride jostled and jumped over bumps in the clouds, and then-

For the first time in my young life, I was truly airborne.

The winged horsies brought us down on a landing strip carved out of the forest like they'd done it every day of their existence. The entire place smelled faintly of Winkleglint, I suppose, in that "old person with bananas on his breath" sort of way. I let myself out of the carriage and face-planted in a puff of springy pink cloud. Anti-Buster helped me up while Winkleglint turned the horsies over to another fairy who had just flown up to greet us. To Anti-Buster, Winkleglint said, "The second building on the right is the guest quarters. That's where you two will be staying. I'll be in the main house."

"You mean this is all yours?" I asked, pressing my hand to my forehead. How many buildings were there, anyway? Not including the stable or the well that must draw water vapor and ice crystals from the clouds below, I counted six small structures from where I was standing. No library. No market. I shook my head. "It's certainly not a Castle, but it isn't a village either. What do you call this set-up?"

"A hive estate," Winkleglint said, and laughed.

"But… but who lives here besides your family? What use could you have for all this space?" Slowly, I noticed that all the nearby buildings appeared to be constructed of wood. Not stone. A lump formed at the base of my throat. Tír Ildáthach, the nature spirit who embodied Fairy World, had nurtured those trees back when they were mere saplings. Some of them were centuries old, if not millennia. H-had the Fairies really torn those up from her body, or had they done what we Anti-Fairies did when wood was a necessity, and imported lumber to the cloudlands from Earth?

He shrugged his wings. "I'm a gyne. Personal space away from other gynes is extremely valuable to me. Do I need another reason to be territorial?"

I granted him that. In the Blue Castle, we literally had hundreds - Nay, thousands! - of rooms we didn't fully utilise on a regular basis. Winkleglint had a similar structure, only he had simply broken his single castle into a small community to allow additional privacy for individuals. I could respect that. Disregarding the question regarding the origin of the wood, his estate was quite lovely, apart from the noisy hum of sprites breeding down by the garden pond with its half-frozen chunks of slushy ice. Evidently, the water in Fairy World  _froze_  this close to the Barrier, rather than thawing the nearer it got like it did on our side. Automatically, I scratched my arms, dreading the itchy sprite bites that were certain to accumulate before the week was out.

 _Note to self,_  I thought. _Ask our host about scheduling a flea dip._  The last thing I wanted out of this trip was to bring freeloading magic-suckers with me back across the border. In Anti-Fairy World, our parasites tended to die off around the same distance from the Barrier that our rivers froze. Regardless, given the magical resilience of their natures, I didn't have full confidence that the cooler temperatures beneath our Sunset Skies would kill them off before they multiplied out of control. Fairies tended to hibernate in the winter, didn't they? Or at least the Earth-dwelling ones. They became more lethargic at the very least- we Anti-Fairies had figured that out millennia ago.

My ears pricked up. Another fairy was hurrying towards us. When I turned, I spotted Mr. Thimble trotting over, adjusting the buttons on his collar. He glanced nervously at me, and then at his boss as he slowed his pace. "There you are, sir. I wondered when you would get back. Your pheromones are noticeably erratic today. May we discuss this in private?"

Winkleglint leaned back against the side of the carriage, hands folded over his stomach. "I'm afraid I have some news for you, Richard. Julius is insistent that drones can get by without the pheromones of a dominant figure. I'm shutting down this operation and going into solitary confinement while Julius tries his hand at wrangling drones."

I nodded. Mr. Thimble blinked. "Um. No, that's stupid. Our moods and energy levels will fluctuate out of control. Sir, can you please reinstate yourself?"

"Not today."

Mr. Thimble looked at me. He looked back at his gyne. "Sir, can you please reinstate yourself?"

"Not today," Winkleglint repeated patiently.

"I see," he murmured. "How soon, then?"

"I told Julius two weeks, but earlier if he calls his study abroad experience off."

"Which I won't," I added.

Mr. Thimble didn't twitch. "That's not the answer I was looking for, sir. You know how this will turn out."

"I'm sorry. Julius is running the show. For now, he is the most dominant one on estate premises."

"Sure," Mr. Thimble said, drawing the word out slowly. He drifted off towards the well, scratching thoughtfully behind his neck.

"Great," I said, "you told him you'd take him back early if I stop the experiment. What if he should interfere in some way? Fake his reactions, perhaps?"

Winkleglint chuckled and straightened up. "I assure you, the thought won't have crossed his mind."

I helped Anti-Buster unpack our things in a chamber in the guest quarters called a "bedroom". Winkleglint hadn't provided us with an array that had a roost we could hang from,  _exactly,_ and unfortunately, the ipewood trees outside had branches much too slender and high for any sane pup to risk. Even so, we found a solution. Inside the closet, I came across a metal bar laden with strange plastic hooks. Anti-Buster presented it to me, and offered to take the bed for himself.

"Are you sure?" I asked, jumping and grabbing for the closet roost with my hands. On my fourth try I caught it, and flipped myself over so my feet could cling to the bar instead. We had only crossed one time zone from the Blue Castle, so it was still early morning, but after spending that bumpy carriage ride in an upright position not at all natural for Anti-Fairies, I needed a brief respite to recharge.

"I will manage, sir," Anti-Buster assured me, placing his box of supplies on the floor. He sized up the bed, and I saw his smile curl in one corner. The energy field blossomed with harp strings. "In fact, I think I will enjoy having some space to call my own. I do so enjoy stepping out of Anti-Bryndin's shadow every once in awhile."

I shifted my feet. "Anti-Buster? Why does Winkleglint have his own bedroom all to himself?" Even Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina slept in the high-ranking roosting room with the other members of the camarilla court and their mates.

"His wife sleeps in there with him."

"Why don't they sleep with the rest of the family? I'd think they'd get lonely, the two of them all alone."

"I'm sure it's because they appreciate all the additional storage space they have in there, kept out of the way of grabby child hands."

That made sense.

Our rest was brief, and then it was time for lunch. I knew because I woke with my stomach hungry. Anti-Buster was still asleep, curled on top of the bedsheets with the hand that bore his purple betrothal ring thrown across his eyes. We hadn't shut the curtains, and I blinked at the pale starlight filtering in. Considering that sunrise and sunset were essentially the same things, you wouldn't think the light in Fairy World would be so much brighter here than that in Anti-Fairy World, only it was. How strange to live beneath a purple sky instead of a red one. And stranger still to have a window without bars. Why, anyone could crawl straight in, couldn't they?

The guest quarters consisted of two small bedrooms, a closet-like space with two basins where we could relieve and wash ourselves ( _not_  in the same one), and a tiny kitchen, but Anti-Buster hadn't unpacked our food from the supply box. I left him to rest and slipped outside, into the warm air. From all different directions, I could pick up Fairy voices, winged horsie whinnies, wagon wheels, and clashing silverware. Not to mention the stirring leaves. I twitched my ears back and forth, and finally settled on a movement near the well. Why, someone was drawing up water. Mr. Thimble, perhaps?

But it wasn't Mr. Thimble. In fact, it was a damsel. It was two damsels. "Oh," I said, and stopped walking. The older of the pair didn't seem as though she could be more than 325,000, and the younger still kept her pink hair divided in two braids, as I'd heard unmarried Fairy damsels generally did. They both turned when I spoke. I tipped my head. "Um. Are one of you Sindri? Winkleglint's daughter?"

The older damsel lifted her hand, while the younger continued bringing up the water. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," she greeted, with the same formal and uninterested tone that Mum tended to use around me. "I'm Sindri. My sister is Xena. I assume you're Julius, the anti-fairy who's staying on with us. Can we help you?"

I scratched my head. "Well. I  _was_ out here in search of Mr. Thimble, but perhaps I can glean some outside information about him from you instead. Do you know him well?"

Sindri inclined her head, her yellow crown bobbing. It caught the light when it glinted, and the shine nearly blinded me in my left eye. "I've always called him Richard. He's my father's alpha retinue drone. He takes charge of the others. He's a tireless worker. He was there when my father bore me, and later Xena, and he helped to raise us. Now that I'm married, I hope he'll be around to help my husband and I raise our nymphs too."

"I see." I watched another figure approaching from the far side of the estate. Another drone, perhaps? "And, how does your father treat Mr. Thi- Ah, Richard?"

Sindri blinked, and helped Xena lift the bucket over the edge of the well. "Like a drone should be treated. Gently, showing appreciation and respect."

"Hmm," I said.

For a time, I wandered the stables and the tiny garden filled with imported Earth soil and budding green crops, before finally deciding to examine the main house. A thin desk covered with a cloth stood guard in the entry corridor. I paused. It had been decorated in little glass objects and tiny framed paintings of Winkleglint, Sindri, Xena, and everyone else who lived at the estate. Something about the paintings nagged at me, and I stood for a moment tapping my head before I realised what it was.

"Those teeth…"

I placed my hands at the edge of the desk and leaned forward until my long nose bumped against one of the portraits. In every image, Winkleglint was depicted with his teeth showing as he smiled. The leprechaun drake I assumed was Sindri's husband, as evidenced by the way she leaned against his side with her hand on his chest while he wrapped an arm around her waist, always had the same expression. Sindri, Xena, and Dame Winkleglint too.

I frowned. In Anti-Fairy culture, depicting one's bared fangs in a permanent medium such as a portrait would be considered an insult, as it implied the figure was known to be an ill-mannered brute who favoured brawn over brains. We Anti-Fairies didn't look as kindly upon senseless violence as gynes in Fairy World seemed to. As such, the statues in the Blue Castle corridors were always carved with closed-mouthed smiles. Dignified, cool-headed, and at peace with themselves. I couldn't help but notice, too, that Winkleglint's drones made frequent smiling appearances in these little paintings, but never with their teeth exposed. Always tight-lipped. A conscious decision, or an automatic one?

"How curious that my people differ from Fairies in so many tiny ways."

I probed around the house some more and found Mr. Thimble in the dining room. It was all wood, with cosy little fixtures so incredibly different from the world of stone I grew up in back in Anti-Fairy World. The windows, framed with pale blue curtains, were still open and lacking bars. There was no sign of Winkleglint, though drearily I suspected Mr. Thimble intended to sneak along the corridor to his room sooner rather than later. One of his feet was pointed in that direction.

"Making lunch?" I asked. Clearly, Mr. Thimble wasn't doing any such thing. He sat in a chair at the table, holding a bare plate against the edge and staring down at it.

His knuckles tightened around the plate's rim. "You shouldn't have involved yourself in my personal affairs, Julius. Now I'm going to be punished."

I pointed a claw at him. "Aha! I knew it! You  _are_  in an abusive relationship after all!"

Mr. Thimble pushed the plate away. He slumped across the table, folding his arms in front of his mouth in exactly the way Winkleglint had been sitting when I had stormed into his office the day before. "We had a disagreement," he said. "That was all. It's bound to happen every once in a while when we Fairies live as long as we do, but I wouldn't call it abuse. Orin is good to me."

"Hmph. I say, if Winkleglint really respected you, he'd never fight with you on anything at all. It's his duty to tell you things that make you feel appreciated, not things that hurt your feelings. If he has a problem with you, he shouldn't gossip about it. Word might get back to you, and how would you feel then? If Winkleglint cared for you, he would put your peace of mind above anything else, no matter what. He shouldn't be doing things you want him to say 'Sorry' for."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Julius, perhaps you haven't yet come to terms with the unbearable lightness of being a child. You're vastly intelligent, yes. You have a creative mind, yes. You're just trying to help, yes. But you don't know everything. Not about Fairy society, and not about me." Mr. Thimble lifted his head. "You are playing with my life as though I'm your toy."

I climbed onto the chair beside him. "Um. Ahem. Mr. Thimble? If you could choose, would you want to be a gyne?"

"No," he droned (Pun… reluctantly intended) without even taking the time to think about it. "I'm not cut out for fighting rival gynes like Orin is."

"Oh, right." I'd forgotten about that little detail. Mr. Thimble was too small to defend, well… anyone in a physical fight. He was lean, and while his face was young, those were definitely grey streaks poking through his ginger curls. For the first time, it dawned on me how narrow his hips were. Of course. Fairy drakes were the ones who carried the pups (Well, nymphs), and he'd mentioned the high infertility rate among drones like himself. Might the width of the waist, perhaps, be the way to tell a drone apart from a kabouter? Perhaps.

"Mr. Thimble?" I asked again, drawing my eyes to his still unbuttoned collar. "How does that, um… that licking thing I saw you and Winkleglint doing in class… H-how does that work? Those licks mean something to a Fairy, don't they?" It was similar to the brushing body contact greetings used among Anti-Fairies, yet different too.

"Mostly to drones and gynes," he acknowledged. "For Fairies, it's both our native language and an ancient foreign tongue. It's newness and familiarity rolled together. Licking the skin is a way of exchanging pheromones. Most notably, gynes and drakes use them to communicate either their protective dominant or respectful subordinate status. At times, licks may also be exchanged between a skyship captain confirming the loyalty of his crew before a long and difficult journey through the cosmos, or between authorities who desire to express their commitment to a business deal." Mr. Thimble paused to consider his own words. "I suppose that was more common back before we started to develop tabletwork. Er, paperwork. Our society has been easing away from that trend ever since the war, but I don't expect it will truly fade out within my lifetime. Still, to a gyne and his drones, preening is everything."

"Oh? Is that what it's called?" It was a pretty word.

He nodded. "Every lick involved in a preening ritual is a symbol that carries a different tone, meaning, and emotion. Some signals are intended to be apologetic, others comforting, others respectful, and still others demanding."

I nodded back, more slowly. "When you and Winkleglint, er… preen… a-are you happy? How does it feel?"

Mr. Thimble closed his eyes. "Sweet. As sweet as fondue. As sweet as chocolate. As sweet as the rush of purified energy field on a Friday morning. When gynes and drones exchange pheromones by licking one another's skin, that's called preening. I think preening is the deepest level of trust two Fairies could possibly have." He opened his mouth and traced his tongue along his teeth. "Do you know why the windpipe is so important to Fairies, Julius?"

It was an interrupting, oddball question from some other field. He'd slipped back into teaching mode, I suppose, and decided to fling a pop quiz into my lap. I thought through my possible replies, playing with the edge of the tablecloth.

"Um… I understand a few things. In the universe, there is this thing called oxygen. It makes fire burn, and down on Earth, there are animals who use it to breathe. Oxygen is what fills their blood and keeps their b _rrr_ ains functioning. However, the survival of you Fairies doesn't depend on oxygen. Instead, you absorb floating particles of the universe's magic, or what we call the energy field, through the pores in your skin, similar to the way your insect counterparts intake oxygen. And, um…" I looked down at my hands. "I know that compressing the windpipe will severely hurt a Fairy. It disrupts the flow of magic through their veins somehow, by scrambling their circuits and… sending off energy pulses that chase the magic down to the feet and away from the brain and the life-giving core, or something. It's one of the few ways a Fairy can die. I don't really understand why."

"Very good," Mr. Thimble told me, sounding honest. Straightening, he touched a finger to his throat. "There are other creatures in the universe who use their windpipes for carrying oxygen to their lungs. Our windpipes, larynxes, or whatever you call them in Anti-Fairy World are connected to our voice boxes and used only for producing sound so we can speak. Squeezing the windpipe triggers all the nerves to flare up, all trying to make noise all at once. It drains a Fairy of all their energy in a matter of minutes. A Fairy with a damaged windpipe won't survive long." He paused. "Or at least, this is the best explanation science has for us at this time. Granted, when we Fairies die, our bodies turn to dust, and you Anti-Fairies turn to smoke. It makes Fairykind difficult to study."

"Hmm… So I suppose, when a drone brings his sharp teeth near a gyne's neck to offer a lick…"

"… A relationship of extreme trust has been established," Mr. Thimble finished. "The windpipe is right there." He returned to staring at his plate. Placing his fingertips against the rim, he pushed down and made the plate bounce up. Its ceramic surface gave off a deep, trembling noise that rattled through my ear canals. He let it down again. "Maybe that's why I have a hard time believing you when you talk to me like I'm a prisoner. I hold power over Orin too. It creates a system of checks and balances, not unlike the way the Anti-Fairy Council handle justice and punishment, and the High Count and Countess manage your military force and federal funds."

"When I was talking to him yesterday, Winkleglint made it sound like drones really  _need_  gynes to be happy," I said. "But if you came to the Blue Castle with me and began making friends there, why, you could teach an Anti-Fairy the licking signs. I'll help you figure out which ones you can trust. Maybe your counterpart. Have you met him? He holds the Seat of Breath on Anti-Elina's camarilla court, you know. Anti-Richard is dreadfully excitable, but you know he would never really hurt you. I daresay he'd treat you with a load more respect than Winkleglint did, you know what I mean?"

Mr. Thimble wasn't convinced. "Anti-Fairy licks don't transfer pheromones."

"Then we'll have him use a placebo replacement."

"Open wide."

I did, uncertainly, but he held me back by the shoulders as he brought his eyes down to my level. After a brief moment spent scrutinizing the inside of my mouth, he shook his head.

"It wouldn't work. Your tongue is too soft."

"You didn't even try it," I protested.

"I don't have to." Mr. Thimble's tone turned deeply disinterested. "In fact, I didn't even have to use my eyes to recognise it. Remember, even though I may be a drone instead of a kabouter or a gyne, I'm still a Fairy. I can sense movement and textures from a distance, including your tongue even when your mouth is closed. And, I studied Fairykind physiology at the Academy. Anti-Fairies have long, soft tongues for sipping flower nectar, and for…" He blinked. "Um. It's for nectar. Fairy tongues are rough. They're meant for scraping at the skin and absorbing oils and pheromones from the pores. Not," he said with the slightest hint of venom, "for preening Anti-Fairies."

Even though I suspected I knew the answer, I couldn't help but feel the slightest bit miffed. "I say, what's so bad about preening Anti-Fairies?"

Mr. Thimble looked at me again. Then he took my wrist and lifted it until my arm stretched between us in a straight line. "This," he said, and scraped his other hand several times down my arm. Tufts of loose blue fur fell to the floor, catching between the wooden planks. "If I licked an Anti-Fairy, my tongue would pick up all this loose clutter. Fairy tongues are coated in soft spines that point into our mouths and make it difficult to spit anything out. Your fur would clog our throats. We'd cough up balls of your hair for days."

"Ah." My wings drooped. "So, I suppose you wouldn't accept an Anti-Fairy substitute for your gyne, even if he were your own counterpart."

He sounded about ready to sneer. "I wouldn't accept an Anti-Fairy if he were the High Count himself. You don't produce the same pheromones we do, so preening would be a waste of time for everyone. An Anti-Fairy sloppily preening a Seelie Courter with  _their_  tongues would be an insult, and if a Seelie stooped to that level and offered to preen an  _Anti-Fairy_ …" Shaking his head, he left me to fill in the blanks.

"That… would be a sign of immense respect?"

"Hypothetically. And it doesn't seem terribly likely your kind will be getting that from ours any time soon."

"Oh," I muttered. That sounded about right. I straightened my wings. "Was it like that even before the war, too?"

Mr. Thimble didn't seem to hear me. Lost in thought, he prattled on, "Tongues are the single most observable, defining feature between the three Fairykind genera. For a  _Faedivus_ , to taste the air is to experience our surroundings. We identify pheromones and recognise danger signals from afar. We are a people with an eye for shape, intuitively aware of every nearby flowing movement. This includes even the barbegazi, with their white Anti-Fairy-like wings, because they don't have fur, and they're still Fairies.  _Faelumen_ , like their avian cousins, have bones within their tongues."

 _Faedivus_ I knew to be the genus name that every Primary Fairy could be categorized under, into species and subspecies.  _Faelumen_ , then, must be the genus name for the Fairy Refracts, with their white body feathers and golden wings. I nodded.

"And then there's you  _Faeumbra_ , with your exceptionally long and sticky tongues. We all know what your kind do with those during courtship, and frankly I'm not interested in letting one of those get anywhere near my face. Anyway, they're too soft and squishy. They ooze across the skin like slime, and your drool pushes any grime on the face away before the tongue can even get there. Not even mentioning the fact that your saliva contains strong acids intended to burn and dissolve skin."

"Actually, our tongues absorb-"

"I imagine the whole experience to be an incredibly disturbing one, and it simply doesn't appeal to my needs. Even anti-will o' the wisps, despite sharing their wings with those of a moth instead of a bat, I consider inefficient."

Well, obviously. What else would you expect from a mothdame? Their inexpensive, ah,  _services_  were hardly intended to rank as premium, for an Anti-Fairy or a gyne.

"Still…" I placed my elbows on the table and cupped my chin in my hand. "A partner with limited ability to satisfy your needs is far superior to an obsessively controlling partner who fights with you and tears you down, isn't it?"

Mr. Thimble stared out the nearest window, unconvinced. Then he turned on me. "Why do you insist on doing this, Anti-Lunifly? My personal life is none of your business."

I flicked back my ears. "Me? Why, you're the one who told me you hated Winkleglint!"

He folded his arms again with a grimace. "I'm a domineering spirit trapped inside a thin, fragile body. I clash with his personality from time to time, but he gives good pheromones."

I sighed. "Mr. Thimble, I don't think you understand how badly he's been abusing you."

"… So what's this?"

"What?" When I glanced over, he had slumped over, again mimicking Winkleglint's earlier position in his office with perfect minute detail. The ceramic plate sat, empty, in front of his eyes.

"If that was abuse, what's this?"

"This?" I laughed. "Why, this is living free!"

We sat together for a moment.

"I don't like it," Mr. Thimble said. He shifted his eyes over to me. "I thought that you of all people would understand my predicament, Julius. It's why I confessed to you alone back in the classroom."

"How do you mean?" I asked, aghast.

"Because your people live in large colonies, act openly affectionate, and defer to a leader figure who assigns you to productive chores, provides stimulation, and organises entertaining events. Just like drones and their gyne."

I opened my mouth. I shut it. I opened it again. I shut it. The world sounded like rain falling on a starcharterdial.

"Th-this is different," I stammered out. My tail, though restricted by my pants, started to bristle up. "Winkleglint is keeping you here against your will. Can't you see that?"

"Perhaps. But." Mr. Thimble put out his hands. "I don't really want to leave him. Even if I did, I have nowhere else to go. Orin is the only family I have. My fellow teachers all know I belong to him, and I don't have close relationships with anyone else. I'm considered a bit older for a drone," he added, glancing at me almost in apology. "I'm set in my ways. I've planted my roots. What other gyne would want me at this age?"

I had no answer for him. Fergus Whimsifinado was the only other gyne I knew. Him, and perhaps Swanee-Bryndin, considering that Anti-Bryndin had his freckles and black chin fur and all.

"Then forget gynes and preening altogether," I said, flicking my hand. "What you really need is a loving romantic relationship. You need another family to pour your attention into. That will make you happy."

"Remember that I'm sterile."

"So am I," I pointed out. "Yet, I managed to find a damsel who loves me anyway. Look here, Mr. Thimble. Picture yourself seated at the supper table. All the food there is pleasant. Your portion sizes are perfect. The food intended to be warm is warm, and the food intended to remain cool is cool. Your significant other sits to your left, and all your other best friends sit to your right. Music plays like twinkling stars. Do you feel it?"

I studied Mr. Thimble's eyelids. His mouth kept twitching in a frown, like keeping up with everything I'd said took all his energy. I sighed.

"You're imagining Winkleglint there, aren't you?"

Instead of opening his eyes, Mr. Thimble simply covered them. "I  _can't_  help it. My father died when I was only ten thousand. Orin took me under his wing. Sure, we've argued here and there, but who wouldn't after almost eight hundred thousand years together? Orin isn't just my employer. He's also my family. He's my caretaker. He's my brother. He's my friend. I can't, as you seem to think I can, simply leave him and my entire life behind."

Here, I crossed my arms. The foot would have to come down. "Mr. Thimble, may I remind you that you said you hated him."

"I don't hate him. I just…" He looked away. "I miss him. It was more fun when we were younger. The playfulness and the caring were there. I don't hate him. I just don't like his current mindset as much as I liked his old one." As I watched, Mr. Thimble's eyes flickered shut again. "Back when we used to play games in the woods, back when we looked after Sindri together, back when we actually agreed on the same politics, back when I felt… irreplaceable."

It was an interesting word to end on. "You really do care for Winkleglint," I said, watching my teacher mope into his arms. I twitched my ears. "How can that be? Mr. Thimble, I know you don't want to believe it, but I simply insist that you face the truth. I  _saw_  you trembling to the point of going thinningcore when Winkleglint burst into the classroom during lunch hour. You were scared. He scared you." I put my head on the table, trying to catch his eye. "Is that the sort of relationship you truly want to continue? Can you really thrive on that forever? Why don't you just leave? No matter how long they'd been close to me, no matter how much I once cared for them, if someone were hurting me instead of loving me, I would leave."

"It's not that simple, Julius," Mr. Thimble murmured. "You can't let go of eight hundred thousand years. I'm his drone, he's my gyne… That makes us family. You understand."

"But you're not happy!" I closed my hand into a fist. "And you always deserve to be happy, no matter who tries to get in your way! Who decided to make it a rule that drones have to stick with gynes? Why, it's your life, and Winkleglint has no right to tear your freedom away from you!  _You're allowed to be happy!"_

Mr. Thimble stared forward without answering, while I huffed several times between my teeth. Then he said, "Actually, Orin's in the right. We don't usually fight. We never fight. This time he was right, and it was my fault. I'm just a slave to my base instincts, and I let myself get tempted away. Eight hundred thousand years is a long time to remain faithful, and when Dale crossed my path, I lost control of myself."

"Who is Dale?" I asked, latching on to the name instantly. If Mr. Thimble had been lured away from the drake he'd lived with his entire life, it must have been for true love. I just had to make him realise it, subtly enough that he thought it was all his idea.

"Dale Scarletfeather. He lives in town. He hunts squirrels and jackalope in the forest, along with the occasional kelpie. He makes the best waffles." Mr. Thimble pushed his fingers through his hair. "I don't know… I didn't mean to hurt Orin. He wasn't supposed to find out. He wouldn't have, if Dale hadn't bragged about it. I know other drones who've skipped between half a dozen gynes in their lifetime. I've only had Orin. His pheromones have been getting weaker for centuries, and Dale is so young and full of energy. He smells of apricots. I was just curious. I was out running errands, and he offered to walk me home from the post office by way of a 'new shortcut' he'd just forged through the woods during a hunting trip. When he turned down his road instead of Orin's, I didn't try to stop him. I didn't even think about it. It's what I do."

"You did nothing wrong in exploring the potential for a relationship with Mr. Scarletfeather," I assured him, giving his elbow a pat. "You came back to Winkleglint, didn't you? No one was hurt, and you had a delightful time while you were out. There's no shame in that."

"But  _we're_  not Anti-Fairies."

I stopped patting. My ears quivered. I withdrew my hand. "Wh-what do you mean?"

Mr. Thimble sat up, pushing his chair several centimetres back. His wings threatened to beat despite the fact he was sitting down. He was glaring. "You wouldn't understand, Julius, but we Fairies actually take relationships seriously. Unlike your kind, we're not supposed to have second wives and third wives and - dust forbid - a string of devoted  _gynes_. We don't have huge mating free-for-alls like your annual migrations. In Fairy World, relationships are built on emotions like love and trust. Not on lust and desire like they are on your side of the Barrier, where even your sexually transmitted diseases are praised as medals of honour rather than brands of shame."

Every word smashed against my skull like a piece of razor-sharp coral. "I-I'm sorry?" I stammered out, ice rising in my cheeks. My ears swivelled downward.

"You know what your coloured eyes are, don't you, Anti-Lunifly? Your culture has beaten the taboos out of existence and marketed your little iris virus so well, you couldn't imagine accepting a prince with red eyes on the High Count seat even if he were your own flesh and blood. Anti-Bryndin wasn't even Anti-Ember's firstborn.  _You know that,_ don't you? Your intended prince was passed over, just because of something he couldn't control when he was born." Mr. Thimble stood. His fingers curled into the edges of the table. "Don't you realise the iris virus is nothing more than a sign of your mother's thirsty, unquenchable soul? Has Anti-Bryndin ever told you why he's laid claim to three permanent wives, and not one the match he was actually paired with during his Tarrow ceremony? To say nothing of the way he takes his pick of all the other adults in his colony purely on a whim whenever he likes. To say nothing of what we all know goes down during migration season. How old are Anti-Fairies usually by the time they find out he keeps his actual honey-lock partner locked up in a grain silo?"

The frozen tears pushed their way over my eyelids before I could blink them back. "How could you say that? Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina are our High Count and High Countess! He would never lock anyone away like that, and she would never let him. They're  _good_  people!"

His hands came down on the kitchen table. "I'm a  _drone_. I'm the one who physically doesn't have a  _*$# &!ing choice_ when it comes down to pheromones and preening. And look which one of us takes the heat for cheating."

I think I only processed half of what he said, so stunned was I by this sudden whirlwind of venom. I do remember that once he stalked outside and flitted off towards the road, I fled to Anti-Buster in the guest house and begged for him to say it wasn't so, all those nasty truths Mr. Thimble spat about Anti-Bryndin abandoning his Tarrow partner as though our traditions actually meant nothing, about Anti-Zoe in the grain silo, about my bright green eyes being a sign of something shameful I was only beginning to understand. Anti-Buster held me in his lap and stroked my hair, and was very good at listening while I babbled out all my pains and fears.

"You just don't understand, Julius," he comforted me in his familiar low murmur. "Deprive a drone of pheromones at the wrong time of the season and they get like that. Moody. Aggressive. Their moods and energy fluctuate horribly without a dominant gyne to keep them in check. He would have lashed out at anyone who had been there. It wasn't because it was you. You were simply there, the wrong place at the wrong time. Such was your fate, but use the experience to learn and grow and you'll come off stronger for it."

"It still hurt." I nestled my long nose into his shirt, clinging to his warmth and the security of his wings around me. I swallowed. "Anti-Buster? Is it true what he said, that Anti-Ember had a firstborn Anti-Coppertalon child who didn't inherit the coloured eyes, and so he was hidden away from us and that's the only reason the heirship passed to Anti-Bryndin?"

"… It's true."

"I've never heard tell of it before. I didn't even know there could be Anti-Coppertalons without the iris virus. Why don't we ever talk about it?"

He grimaced, still brushing his claws through the tangles in my hair. "Some things aren't meant to be brought into the public eye, sir. The Anti-Coppertalons are a noble lineage. Were an heir without the virus next in line for the High Seat, the people would cry out in protest with claims that the sacred gift was lost, and the favour of the nature spirits was lost with it. It's our custom. Anti-Dusty even changed his name."

"What happened to him?" I croaked.

"The same fate intended for all Anti-Coppertalons who don't show the coloured blessing, as is our tradition, sir. He learned to fade into the background, and traded the Anti-Coppertalon name for the one shared by his Fairy counterpart, Fairywinkle, for of course, it's always Fairy fathers who pass on their names, regardless of their status." Anti-Buster lifted his head, and I watched dully as his pink eyes gleamed. "Anti-Dusty did contract the iris virus eventually. From the most devilishly alluring damsel this side of Comet Falls, I don't mind confessing. But by then, it was much too late to force himself back into his family. Such became his fate. The fact that the Anti-Coppertalons are capable of producing heirs who don't show the virus is among the most guarded secrets of the noble lineage, sir. Do realise that I am trusting you deeply with it. The common people aren't to know. To ensure their undying loyalty, they must believe they are ruled over by the most favoured bloodline of the gods."

Rubbing my nose, I said, "You certainly know a lot about our secret history, Anti-Buster. I really ought to take some private tutoring from you."

He did not reply. I stared at him.

And then I clapped both hands over my mouth.  _"Eeep!_ No! You don't mean-? But-! Anti-Dusty Anti-Fairywinkle can't be-  _Y_ _ou?"_

"Shhh!" Anti-Buster folded back his ears. His eyes stretched. "Julius, you let your imagination run away with you, as is your tendency."

I could see the traces of Anti-Ember in the shape of his face and the sheen of his black hair. Not to mention his height and his glimmering pink eyes. My hands stayed on my face as my eyes darted around.

"But- but- you were born  _first!_  As the firstborn, it's your right! You're of Anti-Coppertalon blood, and the position should be yours, regardless of the colour of your eyes, shouldn't it? But oh, how  _could_  you? Turning your back on your Anti-Coppertalon blood to take your counterpart's family name? There might not have even been a true Anti-Fairywinkle family back in ancient times. Where is your history? Where is your story? What animal do you honour?"

"Julius."

"The Anti-Coppertalons have always been faithful to their past as a family descended from the most noble of all scent hounds, Her Glory Laelaps herself, and- and you deserve to honour that aspect of your heritage too, even if you were looked over in terms of inheritance. And if you are truly Anti-Dusty, and Anti-Ember's firstborn, then- then- Caden really should have been-"

I couldn't even speak. Me, friends with a long-lost prince, all this time?

"Caden is my lady's sister's son, not mine, sir," Anti-Buster corrected gently, setting me on his knee. I massaged my temples.

"Oh. And, your lady?"

Anti-Buster averted his gaze. "Anti-will o' the wisp."

 _"_ … Oh." For a fleeting instant, I wondered if it was perhaps a  _good_  thing that Anti-Buster - Anti-Dusty - hadn't become our High Count, with a  _mothdame_  for a mate! A free lady! Couldn't you just imagine her standing in the Castle gardens, draped in bright beads and wispy cloths and sequin undergarments?

But I was struck with immediate shame, too, for shouldn't I take pity on those less fortunate than myself? And didn't Anti-Dusty and any heir he might have deserve their birthright regardless of the circumstances? Even if the heir were a mothdame's child?

"Um. About you and your wife. Did you ever have…?"

His eyes wandered back to meet mine. "We had two damsels. Twins. It was millennia ago."

Twin ex-princesses. This just kept getting more complicated. I wouldn't believe it if I didn't trust the story's source so completely. I shifted my position in his lap.

"We don't have any twins in the Anti-Coppertalon colony. What happened to them?"

"Abandoned during a trip to Fairy World by their mother before I was sent word. Never seen again." Short and harsh.

Ooh. Torn from their families and their proper heritage, their fates resting completely in the hands of the spirits. I decided to change the subject. "Um… Anti-Dusty-"

"Anti-Buster, please, sir."

"Anti-Buster, I understand that you and Anti-Bryndin must be half-brothers. After all, you don't have chimera horns, so you're not an anti-swanee. It's certainly plausible you're related, as the Anti-Coppertalon surname does come from Nana Anti-Ember's family line. I know you don't share the same father, then, so may I ask… Do you know so much of Mr. Thimble's nature because you too happen to have been born a drone?"

"There is no equivalent of drones among healthy Anti-Fairies," he sniffed back. His words came out rough, as they tended to, but his arm behind my shoulders remained soft and inviting. "Our race as a whole is far more intelligent than those miserable goody-goodys are. Anti-Fairies are either kabouters if their counterparts are kabouters, or pilots if their counterparts are gynes."

I raised my head. "Why do we call Fairies goody-goodys? What does it mean?"

Anti-Buster considered the question. "Picture Adelinda von Strangle with her staff shoved up her tail end during an address to the entire Supreme Fairy Council, defending her latest nitpicky addition to Da Rules, claiming it will lead to happiness for poor Fairies when really, her new policies are intended to infringe upon  _us_."

I snickered softly, my mood lightening flake by flake. "So, you're not a drone, Anti-Buster. But surely you daydream you could have been High Count or Countess as opposed to your younger half-b _rrr_ other?"

"Hmph," he said. "That's a road best left untaken, sir. I like my position as First General just fine."

"I suppose you still are presented with at least a cut of the respect you deserve- don't think I didn't notice Winkleglint deferring to the traditional Anti-Fairy method of greeting when we met him in his office today…"

So it went. I held Anti-Buster's secret close to my core, and I didn't intend to ever breathe a word of it.

My first dinner in Fairy World was… a curious affair, to say the least. "Do all Fairies have supper in the dark?" I asked in bewilderment when I joined our hosts in the main building. Just one large table for everyone, in the dining room, in the dark. Sindri and her husband appeared to be the dominant figures present. Seeing as Winkleglint was determined to keep away from his drones, he and his wife had elected to go out to town to enjoy a private meal.

"You don't?" Xena asked, leaning slightly back in her seat so Mr. Thimble could reach past her for the salt shaker. He and the other drones sat with us like equals, though I didn't miss the fact that she didn't offer anything on the table to him.

"What's wrong with candles?" I wanted to know as Anti-Buster scooped what I think was some sort of vegetable coagulation onto my plate.

Sindri wrinkled her nose. "Some of us prefer to be able to taste our food  _without_  the seasoning of artificial aromas."

"Oh." Fairies communicated majorly through smells. Right. I supposed that explained the lack of bars on the windows. The starlight remained dim nonetheless, but Fairies were used to it. I ate slowly, not wholly comfortable with the reduced lighting. I couldn't echolocate with a full mouth, and when combined with the dark, I lacked the ability to keep continual tabs on the other eight people seated with me all at the same time. Shame that the energy field could only pick up reads on the overlying mood of all those in the room as a whole. The satisfied purr it gave off was telling, but not telling enough.

I gleaned the Fairy customs gradually during my time in their world. Fruits and vegetables at every large meal was traditional, even for those who shared their wings with carnivorous species. Granted, I  _understood_  the practice of cooking up complex meals that mixed food types together, such as lasagna, casserole, and (for the adults, of course) cake, even if I disagreed with it. Funny. I didn't recall them ever asking either Anti-Buster or myself if we wouldn't prefer to know what all went into the concoctions we were eating…

So I don't like my food touching. It's not a crime.

Nor had anyone questioned whether I was a fruit bat, though I suppose Mr. Thimble might have used his background in Fairykind physiology to figure that one out. And of course, I suffered more than my due share of social faux pas. Specifically, what things I  _shouldn't_  say at the dining table while scratching at a notorious itch behind my ear. Namely, "Drat these pesky parasites! I swear I've got sprites. I say, where do you think a chap can go to get a flea dip around here, hmm?"

Fairies, as it turns out, are not exactly big on bathing in pesticides. Who knew?

The fact is, Anti-Buster and I didn't remain in Fairy World for long. Winkleglint, as he'd promised, remained confined in his room. Mr. Thimble's mental condition deteriorated rapidly, and I couldn't handle the sound of it. He became jittery in the legs and grabby with his hands. He stressed over everything he couldn't understand or coherently explain, and cried over everything he couldn't stress about. I found him once sobbing on the floor, tucked into a ball, because he'd wanted a spoon for his cereal and the only thing left in the drawer was a knife. Without Winkleglint's presence to pacify him, his energy levels had quickly plunged into hopelessness. Maybe drones did rely on gynes for guidance, I thought as I washed and dried the dishes with Xena, and I hated myself for thinking that way. What was I saying? How could I even consider leaving Mr. Thimble bound to an unbalanced relationship where he wasn't truly happy? Couldn't he see that life with Winkleglint wasn't right for him?

Thimble left one day and came back with a red feather in his curly hair and a calmer bob in his flutter. Soon Winkleglint's three other drones began to mutter about the unfairness of obediently fulfilling their chores while Winkleglint slacked on the promises on his end- hospitality, protection, guidance, comfort, so on. They grumbled about their considerations to seek out other gynes who would better attend to their needs. One of them actually did wander away one afternoon, and with our candles in hand and our nightshirts catching around our feet, we found him alive but crossly silent at the bottom of a cloudchasm. He'd fallen through straight down to Plane 3, and lay weakly nursing a broken arm while sprites buzzed around him to nip his skin and lap up the traces of liquid magic in his blood.

This went on. Rapidly, the drones slacked off in their duties and taunted Winkleglint's wife and daughters when they put their shoulder to the wheel. They teased the horsies and set the whole house of aitvaras hens loose into the woods (and you can only imagine the damage those chickens-turned-dragons wrecked on the natural order of things then!) They cursed anti-fairy pups who couldn't keep their long noses out of everyone else's perfectly pleasant business. From my various look-out points and hidey-holes around the estate, where I would sit with my arms around my knees and my head buried between them, I often overheard Sindri attempting to calm them down. A noble attempt, even for a useless cause.

I threw in the towel on Sunday. Didn't even last a week. I confessed my fears and guilty weights to Anti-Buster, and made the long trek down the main building's corridor to Winkleglint's bedroom. Even rubbing Saturn's lizard figurine between my fingers didn't offer me any comfort. The door was made of wood. I stared at it, and thumped it once with my forehead. It wasn't a knock.

The door cracked open, and it was Winkleglint's wife, whose first name I hadn't actually bothered to learn. "Go ahead," she said when she saw me, floating out. "He's been expecting you."

I knew I had his attention, but I couldn't bear to lift my gaze. My ears twitched forward. "Principal Winkleglint?"

"Come in, Julius."

I slid through the crack, then shut the door behind me and leaned my back against it. My eyes burned. My entire face burned. I studied the shine of the polished wood floor rippling in the candlelight. I imagine that Winkleglint's room was very nice. It probably had charming knick-knacks on every end table and cosy blankets dangling from the back of every chair, and of course, an enormous, cushy bed even bigger and softer than the one in the guest quarters. I chose not to look either around or at him.

"Principal Winkleglint," I said, my mouth thick as though stuck with disgusting slimy cheese, "I shouldn't have interfered with cultural customs I do not understand. After all, I shouldn't like you to interfere in mine. I regret storming in on you that day in school. I'm quite embarrassed. I have learned a lot during my stay at your home, and you have my apologies for my rude inconsideration. It will not happen again."

"Thank you for apologising. No permanent damage was done. The aitvaras hens will be rounded up, and Nathan's arm will heal."

"Please give Mr. Thimble and your other drones back their pheromones and dominance licks. I can see myself they're all much happier receiving those as payment than lagelyn bills and coins."

"I will." Winkleglint tapped his stylus against his desk, which finally urged me to glance up. "Thank you for bringing Thimble's discomfort to my attention. I fell into a pattern of jealous aggressiveness without realising what I was doing or looking at the bigger picture. The problem I had with Scarletfeather has been eliminated. I will talk things over with my drones once we get you sent back to Anti-Fairy World, and we will find a compromise."

I nodded, unable to force even a whispered thank you past the lump in my throat. When he waved his hand, I crept back through the door and started down the hall again. I only made it a few steps before Mr. Thimble appeared with a  _poof_  at my side. The scarlet feather was gone from his hair.

"Did you end it?" he asked, wringing his hands.

"I… I'm sorry for causing trouble."

Mr. Thimble flashed past me, bowling me half over in the process. He beat his fist on Principal Winkleglint's wooden door, and I cringed as multiple pounding migraines began to blossom between my ears. Oh, I'd be nursing that headache for hours. "Sir? Sir, can we talk?"

"It's unlocked," I said, wondering how he thought I'd come out. He just looked at me like I was daft. When the knob finally twisted and Winkleglint pulled the door inward, Mr. Thimble leapt forward with a sharp intake of air. I saw him standing in the middle of Winkleglint's bedroom, spinning around with his arms above his head. His nostrils were flared and his mouth partly opened, drinking and smelling the pheromones in the air.

"You like that, Richard?" Winkleglint asked, leaning to one side to make certain I could see him.

"Oh, how I've missed this!" Mr. Thimble continued spinning until he flopped against Winkleglint's big blue bed. Hands scrambling, he grabbed one of the pillows and held it to his face, drinking in the scent entirely. His wings whirred with an audible buzz. Then he slid down to the floor and fell to his side, laughing in spurts and squeezing the pillow with all four of his limbs.

My ears went flat, smouldering at their tips. Principal Winkleglint studied me in amusement. Behind him, Mr. Thimble launched himself from the bed and landed on top of one of the high cabinets instead. He was hardly up there for long before he kicked off and went sprawling across his boss's desk in the far corner of the room. Stacks of books, rolls of parchment, unlit candles, and a scry bowl tumbled off. Both of us winced as the high cabinet crashed to the ground in a thud of wood and shatter of glass. Mr. Thimble sprang up, apologising frantically, but he couldn't keep his face straight, and collapsed back on the bed in another incurable fit of giggles.

"He'll be fine," Principal Winkleglint assured me, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I'll get him calmed down tonight. You can expect him to be back in class tomorrow, serious and teaching as usual. And…" He coughed into his fist. "Next time, I'll confirm the classroom is empty of students before I engage in any words or actions I might come to regret. You have my word."

"Thank you very much for this research opportunity, sir," I managed, absolutely loathing myself for every footstep I took away from the crushing responsibility of Mr. Thimble's mental health, and back towards the days of my carefree summer youth. Principal Winkleglint still didn't see Mr. Thimble as an equal. It wasn't a victory.

Not that you really want to know what a terribly stupid, nosy anti-fairy pup thinks about, I guess.


	8. Shuffled

_In which the Autumn of the Drifting Storm occurs, and Julius and Mona run away from home_

* * *

I was sick for a week after coming home from Fairy World, and contrary to the stereotypes, I doubt that food poisoning was involved in any manner whatsoever. In the time I was roostridden, I overheard Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina arguing over my attendance at Spellementary School, and when she and Anti-Penny came in to see me one afternoon, I begged her to pull me out. My intrusion into Mr. Thimble's private life had mortified me beyond measure, and I couldn't imagine ever making eye contact with the least degree of pride again.

"Suppose I go back, and he hates me! Suppose I've ruined his entire relationship with Principal Winkleglint. Suppose he's told his fellow teachers what I've done, and they all hate me too. Suppose their judgments reflect negatively on the Anti-Fairy race as a whole. Suppose the other children mock me for my two weeks of absence. Suppose I can't keep up with them academically now. Suppose any number of things!"

Anti-Elina and Anti-Penny both made fair attempts to soothe me, but I blocked them out. They weren't there. They didn't understand how deep under my skin my phantom pains ran. They didn't know anything about me at all. Mr. Thimble hadn't been mistaken. I remembered everything. Every embarrassing snippet of every conversation, every humiliation I'd walked right into.

Mona was a spiritsend during those days, and I don't mean to imply that she wasn't. However, the affection of one's betrothed can only heal you so much before you wonder how much of it is genuine and how much is simply empty cake. Perhaps I lust for honest criticism the way drones lust for gynes, hm?

"How soon until I can begin my studies abroad at the Temples?" I mumbled into Anti-Penny's chest fur. I found myself filled, quite distinctly, with the need to  _get out of here_. This horrid, gloomy Castle restrained me, crushing my resolve with its water drip tortures and oppressing cobwebs in the belfries. Oh, such a due shame- me, an effective prisoner within the protective walls of my own home!

Anti-Penny glanced at Anti-Elina, then brought her palm to the back of my head. "Are you sure you're ready to make that commitment,  _mon ami?_  Perhaps you might consider waiting to study in the Temples until after your  _canetis_ ,  _oui?"_

I frowned. How discouraging it was to hear that even my dear tutor (not to mention my future mother-in-law) didn't even want to be seen with me now. I turned instead to Anti-Elina, clenching my claws in Anti-Penny's blouse.

"High Countess, with your consent, I think perhaps I want to continue my schooling, but I wish to do it my way."

She flicked back her ears with the sound of sparks crackling in a fire. "How do you mean, Julius?"

"Simply, I wish to take a placement test, and be assigned to a class purely according to the level of my intelligence, and not my chronological age. They have those, don't they? My mother has mentioned it." Namely when belittling Augustus with accusations regarding his hypothesized intellect, or lack thereof.

"Anti-Elina," I pressed when her aura in the energy field started to sound more fidgety and uncomfortable. "You're the High Countess. Why, with your recommendation, you could perhaps even get me enrolled in the highest level of upper school should you truly think I deserve it. I'm not asking that much of you. Please let me take the test. For years now, you've always called me an intelligent rascal, and I want to know where I truly stand. No! Anti-Elina, I  _must_  know the completely honest truth regarding where my brilliance tapers to its edge. I must! Won't you grant me that?"

Anti-Elina shifted her claws against the roost. "First, you have to understand the impracticalities. The test takes hours to complete, and setting the arrangements can prove very difficult. These days, I believe there are only three Fairies qualified to give that test: Holly Applespark, Makayla Firebloom, and Ambrosine Whimsifinado."

"Ambrosine Whimsifinado!" I pointed my finger at her. "Yes, get him to do it! Get him!"

With a groan, Anti-Elina covered her eyes with her fingers. "Julius, you're an incredibly intelligent child, but it takes more than mere intelligence to succeed in school. Physically and emotionally, I don't think you're ready. Do remember you are only eight years old, and you're already attending Spellementary School. Most Fairies don't reach that point until they're forty-five."

"I have to see Ambrosine Whimsifinado!" Moving carefully to avoid plummeting from the array, I grabbed the front of her tunic in my hands and twisted the fabric around my wrists. "His son's counterpart knew my father well. I simply must hear all the details about Anti-Robin that I can. Don't you want me to learn my family history?"

Anti-Penny touched my shoulder. "Your mother and Augustus can both tell you what your father was like,  _mon beau-fils._ "

But I shook my head. "I don't want to hear it from Augustus or my mum! His judgment is clouded with starry-eyed fantasies, and my mother I presume acknowledged Anti-Robin merely as a drake to procreate with. What I want to know is who he really was beyond the superficial details."

Anti-Elina was still rubbing her temples, moving her fingers carefully around the jade circlet she wore that marked her as the carrier of Thurmondo's favour. "Julius, you just aren't old enough to take an advanced intelligence test. There are too many concepts you won't understand. Give it time."

"I'm ready now!"

"My answer is no. And if Anti-Bryndin wants to protest, I will actually use my High Countess title to overrule him on this one. If you don't want to attend the youngest Spellementary School class, then you won't attend Spellementary School at all. One day you'll be wishing you hadn't tried to grow up so fast."

I highly doubted that. My mum was abusive, my brother self-deprecating and distant, my father dead, and I hardly had any friends in the colony who didn't shoot me jealous glances or stop talking every time I wandered near. Oh, I desperately wanted nothing more than to grow up. I dreamed of slicing the ropes from my wings and at long last flying again on my own. I dreamed of commanding my fellows in the field as we wreaked bad luck on all the Fairies who had ever spoken ill of us. I dreamed of placing my hands in the same dish of rosewater as Mona as we prepared to be wed, she in a gown of spider silk and me wearing a cape of raven feathers. I dreamed of she and I raising her pups together as our own. I dreamed of a long and satisfying career in educating young Anti-Fairies on all the things I learned in school.

If only I could start living all my dreams now!

And so, I decided to run away. Not forever, of course- just across the border to Fairy World for a matter of days, where I intended to track down Ambrosine Whimsifinado and demand he proctor the intelligence assessment for me. Then I could attend school in a class tailored perfectly to my level. I wasn't concerned about what Anti-Elina would say. I knew I was brilliant, and once I had the proof on paper, she would have to take my side.

"The trip will be daring," I cautioned Mona as we leaned together over a map in the Luna's Landing public library. The map was comprised of 24 enormous sheets of bound parchment, and most dangled off the table. I had to keep a great deal of pressure on my palm to prevent the weight of the entire thing from dragging itself to the floor. Presently, she and I were studying Plane 3, the lowest layer of all the cloudlands. Below that, it was a long fall straight to Earth, and the few scattered clouds of Plane 1 after that. Crawling my fingers forward, I pointed to a dot in the upper centre of the Central Star Region, very close to the star on the map that marked Fairy World's capital city, Faeheim. "Right there. You see that tiny town called Novakiin behind the mountains? Somewhere in there, we ought to find 37 Twilight Road, correct?"

"Yes, yep, yeah."

"That address is still listed as Fergus Whimsifinado's permanent residence. Now, my father's notes mention that he first met Fairy-Fergus down in the Earthside capital city, Great Sidhe, just over 150,000 years ago. This fits with what Principal Winkleglint mentioned when he described Fergus as a tax evader." I tapped the location again. "See, as a cloudland resident, he really is supposed to be paying taxes. However, things function differently Earthside. They're still pulling themselves together and reforming their structure following the rampage of King Elynas, I presume. They haven't gathered the governmental structure to tax anyone. If Fergus is avoiding his taxes anywhere, he's avoiding them down on Earth. Anyway, even if this Fergus fellow is officially classed as rogue, perhaps there's still hope for us yet. Whoever is living in his old residence now may be willing to reveal his location to two curious children like us, and if not, well, then we should at least be able to find someone who will direct us to Ambrosine. Then I shall take my officially-proctored intelligence exam, and it's off to higher-level schooling I go."

"Hurrah for helping him higher!"

And so, we packed our things and pelted through the woods for the border one Wednesday morning while Anti-Elina was leading our cohort on a leaf-examination trek in the opposite direction. Dull stuff- what sort of lunatic cared about boring plants anyway? Too energized to sleep, I'd descended from my array roost beside Ashley and Mona after the rest of my creche had fallen silent. Straight on through morning, I'd paced in circles around the tree trunk-like base of the array, cackling like a madman. For all too soon, I would be in Fairy World! Nothing stood in my way then!

Mona, although weighed down by her  _canetis_  rings, still had the ability to fly. Nonetheless, without echolocation, she hung back as we approached the skeletal woods separating the Blue Castle from the city of Luna's Landing, and allowed me to select which footpaths to travel and which ways we may wish to go in order to avoid hungry hunting animals. Independently either one of us would have been hopelessly lost, but together, we made a dazzling team.

"This- this is it," I puffed at last when the ruins of the Anti-Eros tower, still aflame, came into view up ahead. As much as I enjoyed running about, the tower turned out to be a little farther than I had recalled. I wiped my dry tongue across the back of my wrist, wishing I had something nice on hand to cool it off. Mona and I had packed food and water for our trip, of course, but we only had a bottle each, and I didn't want to waste them. Considering what had happened between Anti-Venus, McPunchy, and Augustus around the time I was born, it wasn't as though we could simply refill our supply from the old clover-polluted canal across the field.

"Does our determined destination disappoint?" Mona asked, peering through the ruins. Some of the larger pieces had charred and burned to rubble long ago, but others still blazed on with bright green flames. How many more years would it be before they died out at last? Two? Much of the grass had been scorched, and it was only just beginning to sprout back. A few small ground animals milled around the place. So did a couple of crows. Although some of the scraps lying about resembled pieces of furniture I vaguely recalled from the day the tower crashed down, I detected no sign of Anti-Venus, nor the other two Anti-Eros triplets Anti-Charite and Anti-Ludell either.

I pointed at the sheen of green in the sky just visible across the hills. "There, Mona, you see? Those stripes of green stretching between those thick iron bars over there is the Barrier. Ohh, isn't it simply gorgeous? It  _rrr_ uns across the cloudlands, separating all of Hy-Brasil's domain from Tír Ildathách's. We'll follow it north until we locate a place where we can cross, and finally you shall be granted the privilege of visiting the Sunrise Skies. You'll be amazed by the splendour, and caught up in the wraps of jealousy too. I know I certainly was."

Mona pushed her ever-frizzy puff of black hair behind her shoulders. Her eyes skimmed along the sky. Tugging the sleeves of her amauti over her hands, she asked, "North is necessary knowing what need?"

"Well, that's the direction I came from back when I was lifesmoke, you see. I simply must have come from Fairy World. That's where Fairy-Cosmo would be living at the time, of course. So, if we should follow along the Barrier long enough, we should reach the Divide Gate that will grant us entry. Come on now. We mustn't dawdle about." I eyeballed a thick orange snake basking near the heat of low Ghostfire. "I say, being out here in the open gives me the most horrid shivers, you know what I mean?"

And so, hefting our bulging packs in our arms, we picked our way through the tower's ruins. Over the years, the clover fields around it had swollen like pregnant sheep. Anti-Venus' garden had evolved into wild tangles, at least before the few small animals we had in Anti-Fairy World had taken an interest in it. Now it lay half-nibbled and half-smashed by who knows what. As my feet were bare, I took care not to step on any broken glass from shattered jars that had once imprisoned puffs of lifesmoke such as myself. That was a frustrating endeavour, as the clear, flat material was so very difficult for an anti-fairy like me to see. There certainly was a lot of it.

"Shall we run?" I asked Mona once we cleared the worst of the rubble. I flicked my ear towards the Barrier. "Come on, Mona! Let's run!"

"Rapidly run a race?" Her tongue dangled from her mouth. She readjusted her pack. "Really?"

"Why not?" I jogged in place and grinned at her, hoping that my bounteous energy would rub off on her fur like static electricity. "Up, up, now. It's good for us Anti-Fairies to run. You know how being upright too long makes us cranky. Exercising like this helps circulate our blood, delaying the dizzy spells. Well? Let's go. Say, first one to reach the wall gets to lord it over the other for a year?" I bolted off without waiting for her answer, my pack bouncing in my arms.

"Just- just- Julius!"

Ohh, there were some days when I actually drank up the joyous thrill of running the same way one might slurping chicken cordon bleu from a soup tureen. Every step I flew made my heels crash like beached mermaids in the spiky brown grass and the ashes, springing lightly up again as though forced away by little sprites. The slapping wind against my face kept my hair flowing behind me until my curls turned to waves, and suddenly, there was no such thing as the present day. No fears. No pain. Only onwards.

I could run forever! Yes, why  _not_  run forever? Why, if it weren't for that dratted Barrier blocking my path, and of course the uneven islands of rock that comprised our floating nation and the cloudfluff that made up theirs, I imagine I could have kept sprinting all the way from the tower straight to Novakiin. In fact, I could have made it to Faeheim. I could have reached Mistleville. I could have kept going all the way up to the Eros Nest itself, at least nine time zones away! I could fly to the moon! How's that for an afternoon pastime?  _Hahahaha!_

And yet, upon reaching the Barrier, I forced myself to skid to a halt, scuffing the ashes and thoroughly coating my ankles in soot. "Ahaha! I win! Did you see that, my darling? I told you I could do it. And it has nothing at all to do with common anti-fairies being the fastest of the various Anti-Fairy subspecies, even though we are, for that blessing of Munn's only applies to one's wings. No, it's simply the speed of my own two feet, and I of course wasn't- Mona? Hello?"

It took me a moment of looking to find her with my echolocation, but I managed. There she was, staggering through the fields a considerable ways back. Understandably, she kept very near the burned sections of land, and steered clear of the mess of living clovers along the rise. Puffing my cheeks and shaking my head, I abandoned my pack and scampered back to assist her. I suppose not everyone can be expected to run as fast as I.

Mona wanted her water as we walked towards the Barrier at her pace, so I unscrewed the cap on one canteen for her. But when I went to take a sip from my own, the lid didn't budge.

"Hey." I pulled again. "Mine's stuck."

"Allow another." Mona took the pouch from me. After rubbing her palm firmly dry on her thigh, she tried her, well, luck with the cap. But try as she might, grunt and sweat though she may, she couldn't coax it to pop off. She looked at me like I had elves nesting in my hair. "Where were you when wishing up this one?"

"It's my father's," I said, mopping my brow just watching her. "I found it in his storeroom while Augustus and I were organising."

"Figures. Faster for filling than for fighting?"

I frowned. "You know, the odd thing is, it opened fine back in the storeroom. I simply took it outside and filled it from the falls in the garden back home before we left. Then I took one sip to taste test it, and replaced the dratted cap as normal. It should pop open very easily."

"Huh." Mona took her wand from her sheath and tapped the lid twice. The star on the end sparkled with purple. We waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened. The cap was just as stuck as ever. Mona went to try again with the knife folded into the other end of the wand, but I put a stop to that. This canteen belonged to Anti-Robin. Surely someone more skilled in magic than the two of us could fix it later, but I still didn't want her to puncture it. Mona shrugged. "Suppose we'll simply share."

"I suppose," I muttered. I had a right to be cross, I think. This canteen was my father's, with a picturesque volcano of all things painted on its front, and I had been so excited to put it to use. As humiliating as it was not to be able to open the cap in front of Mona, at least she had tried too and failed. Failure didn't sting so much when you weren't the only one.

And so, sharing sips of water from our one remaining canteen, we trekked northward along the Barrier until a small tunnel came into view up ahead, guarded by a tiny shed like an outpost. The passage leading across the border looked much different than the one Anti-Buster and I had passed through on our journey to Winkleglint's estate, but the strong flow of the energy field pouring out from it confirmed where it led: Towards the Big Wand standing tall and proud in Faeheim, and thus, towards Fairy World. Of course, I realised as we approached, it made sense that this crossing station would be different. Winkleglint's destination had been Plane 4 of the 24 Planes of Existence in the universe, and Mona and I were on Plane 8, and traveling down to Plane 3.

Mona pursed her lips when she saw the figure standing down the slope at the tunnel entrance. "Great. A guard. Perhaps we'll be permitted to pass purely as prisoners."

The boy stood vigilant at his post, leaning his cheek on a tall staff capped with a small, glimmering yellow star. His skin wasn't as pale white as Ambrosine's had been, but rather a tan brown in colour. He dressed in a white shirt that wholly lacked sleeves- Good smoke, wasn't he freezing in the Hy-Brasilian weather? No coloured vest or jacket to accent the plain white fabric either. He deserved the poor karma coming for him.

His thick neck had been decorated with an odd green bow of sorts. Not a bola tie, and not a cravat. Just… just a bow. His face was framed by bright purple curls he had to continuously push out of his face. And, I couldn't help but notice, he was totally without wings. That much became obvious when he bent down to stretch for his toes, revealing two large cuts in his shirt where his wings  _should_  have come out, but were instead replaced by little nubby stumps. I drank in the sight, my eyes narrow. That distinctive feature (or lack thereof) combined with his complexion and the sharp curves of his face left no doubt in my mind as to who was guarding our way to Fairy World.

"The youngest of the von Strangle clan, and in training to take over as Keeper of Da Rules someday," I whispered, pulling Mona away. "Don't fret now, darling. I'm positively certain we can get past him, if we're clever enough. We just need to think for a clever moment and solve this riddle together. We certainly can't out-brawn him, so we'll have to outsmart him. Wait a moment. Ooh-hoo-hoo, now I've got it! We'll fool him into believing we were given permission to cross into Fairy World in order to sell a product door to door in one of the quaint towns just over the border."

It was a brilliant plan, but what did we have that we could pretend to be selling? Certainly not the canteen. And nothing like ashes or rocks. Fitting with the stereotype of the famous von Strangle family, the boy looked a little dumb, but he didn't look  _that_  dumb. No boring old rock would interest him. And we couldn't simply wave our wands and wish a product up, or else he would see straight through us; Fairies preferred to buy homemade and handcrafted items, not ones simply woven of magic. Anyone could wish up something on their own. Most people who legitimately purchased products did so to prevent the items from disappearing during magical lockdowns when the energy field was temporarily removed from the area. No magical energy field, no magic. That's when you wanted organic, physically-obtained things around.

You know, I never understood the morals behind their actions. Of course it wouldn't be ethical to  _poof_  up actual money, for money was something that ought to be legitimately earned and given away lest all of society crumble apart at its roots, but no Fairy batted an eye about  _poof_ ing up the electric or water power required to make their lighting or heaters run? Why didn't anyone consider bypassing the electric or plumbing companies with magic to be unethical? Fairies don't make all that much sense. We Anti-Fairies take pride in always choosing to pass through the most legal and ethical means to perform our magic, regardless of how long it takes. True, some of us may not have all the riches and furnishings that we could were we as frivolous with our magic as Fairies, but that's what fosters a society of those who pleasure in sharing what they have with those less fortunate than they. A Fairy could never understand the tight bonds our people had.

 _Come on now, Julius. Think._  If I intended to pull the wool over the young von Strangle drake's eyes, I needed to do it with some small, organically magical item that still exuded enough of an aura to turn the boy's head. Something like…

I turned around, my gaze trailing back to the Anti-Eros tower. One of Anti-Venus' magical plants, perhaps? Surely there must be something that had survived the Ghostfire blaze. Perhaps a hidden box of seeds, or even a few cans of beans packaged packed in some dusty pantry cradled in material the fire hadn't scorched. We could feign we were travelling door to door to sell a few magic beans, couldn't we?

I gave Mona's sleeve another tug, and we moved away from the boy guarding the tunnel. "Stay here. I'm going to run back to the tower and grab a few little things."

"Prepare a plan, partner?"

"Of course. Was there ever any doubt?" I slid my hand below her face and lifted her head higher. "Keep your chin up, my darling. I'm going to run back to the Anti-Eros tower now. I'll return before the hour's out."

"Can I come?"

"No offense, dear, but I'll be ever so much faster without you. Ta-ta!"

I left her my canteen and pack and raced back across the rolling fields, steering clear when my senses alerted me to a four-leaved one. I hadn't actually figured out how that worked, either. We Anti-Fairies were creatures of balance, weren't we? Shouldn't we only be repelled by an item deemed as lucky if we ourselves were chronically  _unlucky?_ And since we weren't, well... what, then, could be the cause of natural repulsion?

Hmm. That would make a very interesting research paper someday, I'm sure.

Back at the tower ruins, I began to poke around, overturning slabs of rubble and moving carefully around shards of glass. Ghostfire licked its way up the larger remains of the tower wall, sparking and gleaming. I paused briefly to study its movements. Most of the wall material appeared to be comprised of alabaster. Some of the soil that Anti-Venus had brought up from Earth contained a great deal of clay, and under the heat of the flames, it had hardened into a smooth, glossy surface. It was really quite pretty, and I had the most desperate urge to conquer that power and tame it under my own hand.

What was I looking for, again? Oh. Right.

My explorations led me up the platform of what had once been the bottom floor of the tower. I had to crawl carefully to avoid the Ghostfire, and the tips of my wings came off more than a little scorched. Regardless, my pursuits led me to the kitchen, where I then came across the pantry cellar. The trap door was too heavy for my skinny bare arms, but I waved at it with my wand, and it swung upward with a drawn-out creak. I descended with a smirk.

The cellar wasn't dark. Most of the walls had been lost, so patches of the outside were visible in every direction. If I hadn't been able to utilise my spotty magic today, I could have poked around and discovered another way in. Still, despite the damage, most of the Ghostfire didn't seem to have reached this far.

While that was promising, the past presence of looters was another story. No herbs hung from the rafters, and no blankets remained stacked on the shelves. After fifteen minutes of poking through the maze of fallen debris, I came up with only four bins to search that might contain promising materials.

It was in the very last container that I hit the jackpot. The entire crate was half-full of very small pale blue beans, just like the ones we frequently ate at meals in the Blue Castle. I used my wand to  _foop_  the crate out of the cellar and just outside the tower, out of reach of the Ghostfire.

"Phew," I managed when it was done. I coughed on the sudden taste of blood in my mouth. Holding my hand to my chest, I scampered back outside after it. "Oh good smoke, that smarts. I really need to start working out a little more, hmm?"

 _Foop_ ing the box all the way to where Mona sat would have required more energy than I as of yet possessed in my tiny body. I did it in bursts, resting to pant and wipe my brow on occasion as I made the slow trek back. When I came into view, Mona floated up to me, the cap already removed from her canteen. Although I knew it wasn't wise to be frivolous with our water supply, I did truly need a refreshing drink.

"Box of beans?" Mona guessed, studying the crate I'd brought back with eyebrows raised.

"Oh, yes, we simply must have beans to pull this off, my dear. They're an integral part of my brilliant plan, you see. When I approach the von Strangle child, just follow my lead." I placed my hand to Mona's gentle cheek. "And speaking of, do recall that Fairies communicate with scents which tell others their emotions. They can taste the air to detect body language and facial expressions even when they're looking the other way. Meaning, if we are going to pull this off, you are going to have to remain confident and cool-headed at all times so we don't arouse his suspicions. Have you got that?"

"Confident and cool." Mona smiled. "I reckon I can remember that right." But as I set about sipping our water, her smile slipped into a frown. First a soft one, then more serious. Her constant humming stopped. She examined my crate in more detail, even walking in a circle around it. "But buddy? Your bothered betrothed believes these blue bundles aren't bunches of beans."

"Of course they're beans. What else could they be?" Certainly not Anti-Fairy excrement. Much the same way we released literal butterflies from our mouths when we were sick, our leavings were more along the lines of…

… Actually, I'd rather not say.

"Blue baby bodies?" Mona suggested, still soft.

I snorted. "Darling, don't be absurd. We're Anti-Fairies. We turn to smoke when we die. We don't leave bodies."

Mona reached out and took my chin. Very slowly, she rotated my head until my eyes came face to face with a label I'd missed pasted across the crate's front.

_STILLBORN EMBRYOS_

"Eep!" I couldn't help myself. I dropped the canteen I held and screamed into my palms. Fortunately, Mona's ultra-quick reflexes kicked in, and she managed to wave her wand before the canteen hit the ground. It reappeared in her hand with a  _foop_ , its precious contents not lost to the dust. "W-what?" I stammered.

Now that she'd said it, my thoughts flashed back to my cousin Ashley, tiny and unborn in Anti-Joanie's pouch before I had crawled in there with my knife to rescue him. He hadn't sprouted fur, and his colour was so pale blue that he looked nearly white. No protective square of blubber to keep his young body warm in the cloudland cold. The "beans" in the crate looked a lot like that, only…  _younger_. They hadn't started growing the course black tuft on their heads that would become their crowns, or the beginnings of wings, and most of them hadn't developed even very crude and shrivelled limbs. They appeared to be nothing more than, well, little blue beans.

"What- But- How-?"

"Post-procreation and prior passing to their partner's pouch, papas precisely present precious pups, meaning mums make marvellous lifesmoke," she reminded me. "Look. Little lads and ladies didn't live long enough to learn life and linger."

"Yes, they didn't have any magic in their systems that would turn to smoke… Let's see here. So, clearly when the lesser honey-lock kicked in thirteen days following fertilisation and the parents met together again, all the pups must have died following the transition to their mother's pouch, which lacked the lifesmoke to sustain it in response to the miscarriage of the mother on the Fairy side of things." That thought left me tapping one claw against my head. "No, no, that isn't quite right. It's Fairy  _fathers_ who carry the young to term; don't ask me why. It doesn't make sense that they should be like that unless their reproductive systems had evolved from ours, which of course couldn't be true seeing as they're made from dust and we came from smoke. Hmm…"

I thought better when I was actively moving. I paced back and forth in front of Mona a few times, my hands locked behind my back and gaze affixed on the ground. "Right then. Let's assume it wasn't the lack of lifesmoke that killed these unborn pups. After all, an Anti-Fairy damsel's body prepares itself to accept a pup from the moment her partner's hormones are passed into her body during an act of procreation. There's no preventing that. Fairy fathers, then, must have miscarried all these babies, and their Anti-Fairy counterparts produced stillborns. That's the only explanation. But why are there so many of them? Why, this crate must contain hundreds. Thousands! Tens of thousands, perhaps!"

Maybe not. But may _be_.

Mona tipped her head to one side, keeping one of her ears pricked and angling the other flat. "Fairy fathers forbidden from further fertility fun."

I frowned. "Only the common fairy subspecies were banned from reproducing at this time, not all the rest of everyone, but no, that can't be the explanation. Their fallopian tubes were stopped up six years ago now. Their ovaries literally can't send eggs down to the uterus. There's no reason Anti-Fairy fathers would continue developing tiny unborn pups in their pouches. Why, then we'd all be shedding embryos on a regular basis every time we came into estrous. The Fairies may do that, but that's not how it works for Anti-Fairies… as is my understanding, considering how ridiculously inefficient it would be for us to evolve regular estrous cycles considering we can only produce viable offspring in response to successful sexual activity of our counterparts."

After three minutes of walking in circles, I turned on Mona again. "I simply don't understand it, darling. You know as well as I do that we eat these so-called 'blue beans' at nearly every large meal. Unlike her Seelie Court counterpart, Anti-Venus isn't concerned with love and reproduction. She prefers plants. What reason would she have for collecting stillborn embryos from others? No. No, the only viable explanation for these being in the Anti-Eros tower is if they were produced by the cherubs who resided there before the place burned down. But, as I previously stated, we eat these as regularly as we do pinkie mice. All Anti-Fairies do- you can see them for sale in the Luna's Landing market. They can't  _all_ come from the cherubs who once lived here. The only way there could be so many of them is if  _every_ drake is producing them in their pouches, but that would imply that thousands upon thousands upon thousands of Fairies are miscarrying babies at a near-endless rate!  _Why?_  That doesn't make sense! Plenty of Fairies are still able to carry their nymphs to term, meaning the cause of such spontaneous abortions isn't blanketing all of Fairy World."

Mona set the canteen down. "Possibly? Perhaps it's prompted by Anti-Fairy potential parents performing procreation processes when their 'parts pass on the possibility. They birth baby bodies."

"But…" Staring at the crate again, I drew my wand and pushed the star-capped end through my hair. "Even without the baby's counterpart developing on the other side? That doesn't make any sense! It doesn't! Anti-Fairies are a race who reflect their counterparts. Why would our bodies evolve in a manner that resulted in them wasting massive amounts of energy and resources during regular menstrual cycles to produce and nurture an infant that was likely to die stillborn 99.99% of the time anyway? We can't have pups if our counterparts don't have nymphs! That's simply how it works. Sometimes our counterparts reproduce and sometimes they don't, and it's not our choice. It's up to them, and so our bodies don't need to act like we'll produce offspring at any time. Everyone knows that!"

"Suppose…" Mona turned her head. "… they weren't supposed to suffer as stillborns."

I frowned, keeping my wand in my hair and my right hand on my waist. "Whatever are you getting at, darling?"

Mona took a minute to consider what she wanted to say, her brow wrinkling and lips pinching together. I pricked my ears, recognising that if she were preparing to force a blended alliterative sentence through her mental filters, she must have something very important she intended to say. When she spoke, it was a mite slower than was usual for her.

"Wait. Well, what if we weren't meant to make many pups purely 'cuz our counterparts can? Suppose studies should show us Unseelie are really ready to reproduce… when  _we_  want?"

"What?  _Us?_  Non-hosting counterparts? Don't be absurd! Why, then we would have had to evolve regular heat cycles like the Fairies have."

Mona clasped her hands behind her back. "Meaning… our multi-monthly migration meetings?"

My wand clattered from my hand, bouncing in the ashes between our feet. The hand went to my mouth. And she would know, of course. After all, just as I had so clearly been born with the personality profile of an absolutely brilliant genius, Mona had the personality profile of a budding veterinarian. She understood these things.

"Mr. Thimble called migration season a free-for-all mating session for Anti-Fairies," I said faintly. "But… Oh goodness no, that can't be. Put the thought out of your head, silly dame. Mona, Anti-Fairy reproduction is wholly reliant upon that of Fairies, all right? Th-they're our hosting counterparts. Our lives reflect theirs. That's how it is, regardless of the existence of migration season. We don't fade in and out of heat like they do. We just don't. And… and… there are other creatures that migrate to find new sources of food when plants and herds become scarce in the winter, too. Migration isn't just a time to engage in seasonal breeding."

Other creatures who didn't live in cloudlands with year-round temperatures, anyway. I'd been raised knowing all about our year-round temperatures - cool in Fairy World and colder still in Anti-Fairy World - yet never before had I questioned the Anti-Fairy custom of migrating once in early winter and once in late spring. While I still wasn't convinced the reasons were wholly sexual in nature (Migrations were frequently attended by young prepubescent juveniles, after all), the baffling concept did give me something to chew on.

No. Anti-Fairies  _didn't have heat cycles._  Everybody knew that- Heck, even the Fairies did, which was at least partly the reason we were stereotyped as a wild, promiscuous people, seeing as our throes of passion tended not to ebb and flow in predictable waves like theirs. Unburdened by long, dull centuries of low sexual interest, Anti-Fairies could be found wooing their beaux any time of the year. Simply, unlike most species, our drakes didn't ovulate until after coming into intimate contact with a damsel; we were known as "induced ovulators".  _Everybody knew that._

But  _why,_  if Mona's hypothesis was correct, would Anti-Fairy drakes be forced to pass stillborn children from their pouches following any time they engaged in intimacy with a damsel? The resources required to craft the body, the energy required to carry it (even if it was for only thirteen days before the mother took it in)… It couldn't be true. It simply couldn't be. All of it was a lie, because it went against everything I knew of evolution. Why would our race evolve such an obviously inefficient reproductive system, when structuring the pup's body only following a true fertilisation would be so much easier?

Unless Mona was right, and despite everything I'd been taught, everything I'd read, everything I'd just naturally assumed, our race was physically designed to reproduce according to our own choice…

… right up until someone had deliberately altered our reproductive status to belatedly mirror those of our Fairy counterparts.

It didn't make sense. Who would do such a thing? When, how, and why? With magic? Could you alter an entire people's way of life with a simple wave of a magic wand? If so, why did we never talk about this aspect of our history? Surely someone would have known? This theory of ours manifested as naught but sheer lunacy; yet, there was no reason Anti-Fairies should have evolved the ability to produce guaranteed stillborn offspring if there wasn't any use for it…

A dreadfully cold pit settled in the base of my stomach at the thought. My throat tightened. I reached out and took Mona's hand. "Maybe we should go." Even so, when I waved my wand to levitate the large crate and awkwardly float it closer to the tunnel entrance, I found my mind working through the matter of the unborn pups at rapid speed. "I say, Mona. Let's imagine, as preposterous as the claim seems, that Anti-Fairy bodies  _were_ , at some point in our evolutionary history, designed to undergo heat cycles and produce offspring independently of our counterparts' influence. All right?"

"Right."

I squeezed her hand. "Do… do you think that perhaps the status of present day could be altered? Might some future genius be able to reconfigure our reproductive systems to return to that setting, so we Anti-Fairies could reproduce as we choose to? Imagine it: Anti-Fairies electing for themselves the time when it feels right to raise a child. And actually raising one of their own, with- with- the damsel who was actually the legitimate mother, of their own choice and not the honey-lock's forcing!"

"Couldn't a creative, up-and-coming catch like you create that considerate condition?"

Struck dumb for a moment, I nearly dropped the levitating crate. But then, "Well- I mean, in theory, yes. Well, why don't I? Why don't I!" I grabbed both of Mona's hands in mine and pulled her in until our noses bumped. "I say,  _confound_ the law that fairy babies aren't to be born any longer! Confound Fairy-Cosmo's forced sterilisation and stopped-up fallopian tubes. Why, Mona, if I could unravel this mystery and prove this theory of unbound Unseelie breeding you and I have dreamt up, then the pair of us - That's you and I! - could even grant ourselves the chance to have a pup of our own someday,  _rrr_ egardless of how sterile Fairy-Cosmo was intended to be! Anti-Fairies, breeding independently of our Fairy counterparts! Ohh, wouldn't that be something?"

Mona stared at me, and I stared back at her. Since the year she was born, when I was only two years old, we had accepted the fact that someday, perhaps without warning, her honey-lock instinct would kick in. Her fur colour would change to the same shade as her qalupalik counterpart's eyes, and she would breed with another drake - perhaps a friend, perhaps a stranger - while I slept alone that night on our lonely roost awaiting her return. Pregnancy was bound to happen eventually. As her committed husband, I would raise the child as though I'd borne him, even knowing that not a single hair on his body was truly mine.

But to procreate of our own intention… my dear Mona and I coming together one day in the passionate creation of a pup of our very own…

"Yes," she whispered. Her fingers tightened around mine. "Julius, I'd just jump with joyous jubilee."

"So if I were to unravel this mystery of the Anti-Fairy reproductive system sync, I actually could father my own legitimate pups one of these days after all…" Unable to keep my emotions in check, I dropped Mona's hands and wrapped my arms behind her back. My fingers felt their way along her slippery wings. My cheek accepted the warm embrace of her dark hair. I tucked a puff of it behind her ear.

Oh gods, could you imagine it? An actual, legitimate child of my own? I could see him in my mind's eye (I say him, for I did think I wanted a son if I could so choose, although I think I might do a good job at raising a little damsel too; yes, I might). He'd be scruffy around the edges, with my black wings instead of Mona's pale ones, but her wildly frizzy black hair and three-pointed qalupalik crown, and his eyes… What colour eyes would the child have? Mona's were red for now, for she didn't carry the iris virus. I supposed I wouldn't know for some time yet. Some delicious night, I'd have to grant them to her. Oh, what fun, to be a father!

Pulling back, I brushed my hands quickly down the front of my tunic and cleared my throat. "Yes, well, of course, it will be at  _least_  150,000 slow and painful years before our little prepubescent bodies develop into those of mature adults. For some Anti-Fairies, it takes even longer than that- perhaps as long as 30,000 years or so. But don't you fret, Mona my darling, for I shall devise a solution to our predicament centuries - Nay, millennia! - before we come of age, and we can put my hypotheses to the test the very day we are able." As I spoke, I reached to cup her chin in my hand. "Ohh, think of it. And on that beautiful night when we're both of age and ready for it, I shall make you mine, my little dab of butter on a pleasantly warm scone, and we shall never, ever spend another day apart-"

"Julius," she giggled.

"-This, I _swear!"_

I jabbed my claw to the sky as I shouted it, but I let it fall again. Before silence could overtake us with its awkward embrace, I yanked on her hand. "First, however, I shall have to go to school and learn all that I can regarding reproduction. And for that, I must absolutely and undeniably prove the vast capabilities of my far-reaching intelligence with a placement test only Ambrosine Whimsifinado can give me. Come on now! First we must trick that von Strangle lad into believing we are selling these precious 'beans' to Fairies across the border. If I didn't recognise them as stillborns, surely he won't either."

Such was their fate, in playing their part to get me through to Fairy World. Mona and I, and the floating crate with us, returned to the tunnel entrance to find the young von Strangle down the short slope, sitting cross-legged with his staff in his lap. He held a cloth in his hand, polishing his staff's golden star until it gleamed. At our approach, he looked up and narrowed his eyes.

"Anti-Fairies? Ha! You may as well just turn your little tails around before I turn them for you. No Anti-Fairies get to Fairy World on  _my_ shift. For I" - here he hefted his staff - "am Jorgen von Strangle, the eldest son of the Keeper of Da Rules herself! Haha! Haha!"

When he channelled the magic through his skin and into his wand, the star began to glow bright yellow. Coincidentally, it also heated up rapidly, prompting the polish to sizzle and crackle in a manner that resembled lightning. He was a great deal taller than us, even though he was still quite young. Not nearly as young as Augustus and Caden, but young nonetheless. Mona and I both bowed appropriately as was expected of us when faced with a fairy of his status.

"Oh, but you see, Jorgen sir, we're allowed today. Here is our passport." I showed him the small badge that permitted me travel to Spellementary School should I ever be forced to fly there instead of taking the portal. "And here is our location." I removed a scroll from my pack and held it out too. "As you can plainly see, the pair of us have been asked to pay a visit to the therapist Ambrosine Whimsifinado, residing at 37 Twilight Lane in the town of Novakiin."

I had written the name of the location very carefully on a blank parchment I'd found in my father's storeroom. Of course Novakiin was a town. A place needed a Zodiac Temple on the premises to be legally classed as a city. I knew the location of all seven Temples, and Novakiin wasn't one of them.

"Oh." Jorgen frowned, his excitement shifting to disappointed curiosity. He gave the green bow at his neck a tug, then took the scroll from me and unfurled it. "Hmm… Yes, you have written down a location here. But! This proves nothing!"

I pressed my lips together. "Nothing? Really? Are you quite certain?"

He lifted his thin shoulders in a shrug, deflating down to his more nervous persona once again. "Would the both of you not need a passport in order for both of you to pass through the very tall and impressive Divide Gate I am guarding?"

"No, just the one badge. It has two stars on it, see? That covers passage for two people." I pointed at myself. "One." Then at Mona. "Two."

Jorgen's knuckles clenched around the scroll. "Do not be too cocky, little anti-fairy dweeb. Are you insulting me, thinking I am not able to count to the number of two myself?"

My wings trembled. Jorgen wasn't all that big or intimidating, really, but he was still quite taller than Mona and I put together. Despite his poindexter appearance, he carried himself like a soldier. "N-no, sir. I'm only trying to be of help to a man as fine as you are. We Anti-Fairies aren't all bad, you see. No reason to be frightened of us. Look here." With a swirl of my wand, I indicated the crate of unborn pups we'd brought along. Mona made a show of gesturing to it with her hands, smiling an enormously fake smile the whole time. "Why, dear Mona here and I have with us a supply of delicious crops that we intend to offer as a token of goodwill to our Fairy friends and neighbours. They're blue beans, an Anti-Fairy delicacy. It's all quite good and proper, you see."

"Ha!" Jorgen's enormous finger prodded at my chest hard enough to make me stumble back, feet skittering in the ashes. "I know exactly what it is you are trying to do! You wish to bring poisoned food across the border to Fairy World!"

I lifted the pointer claws on both my hands and allowed a small smile to play across my lips. "Ah, not so, good sir! I have yet to elaborate on the nature of this cargo we happen to be transporting to Novakiin. For you see, these aren't just any ordinary beans. These are  _magic_  beans."

Jorgen scooped up a handful of the blue beans - er, embryos, I suppose - and let them run through his fingers. He did it again. And a third time. After examining them closely and pocketing a few, he snorted, unimpressed. My smile wavered. All right. Plan beta.

"Oh, drat." I stomped my foot. "As outrageously clever as I so obviously am, it would appear that you've outfoxed me, and now I shall have a cow." Sighing, I combed my claws through my floppy hair. "Oh, very well. I suppose you'll want to sentence us to community service now and force us to bury all these evil beans in the disgustingly damp and beautiful vapour of Fairy World where they shan't be able to do harm to anyone. And what's worse, I expect you'll probably want to  _poof_  us straight to 37 Twilight Road in Novakiin, where Ambrosine Whimsifinado will confront us and punish us horribly for using his name in our evil intentions."

Mona hummed anxiously at my side. If you had asked me then, I would have sworn that Jorgen wasn't going to buy it. Honestly, what sort of buffoon considers burying an allegedly poisonous plant an effective way to dispose of them, with no concern as to the effects they might have on the clouds that not only provided land for us to walk on, and not only granted us our precious water supply, but also embodied the spirit of the Ursa of Many Colours, Tír Ildáthach, herself?

And yet, Jorgen raised his staff anyway, preparing to bring it down in the soil with a smash. "So it shall be! And let your punishment be a lesson to you: No Anti-Fairy can outsmart Jorgen von Strangle!"

Mona and I vanished in an enormous  _poof_  of glittering Fairy dust. It's really too easy sometimes.

* * *

 **A/N**  - "Jorgen and the Beanstalk" was Jorgen's fairy tale in the episode "Fairy Tales". I'm sure Jorgen and Anti-Cosmo have a long history of border-crossing skirmishes, and they had to start somewhere.


	9. Tangles That We Weave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today on, "Why this is a T-rated fanfic and not a published novel", my apologies for the impromptu Anti-Fairy reproductive system talk there at the very end. It's a necessary(?) evil, and you'll be grateful later when I keep the technical stuff out of the scenes that are supposed to be romantic.

_In which the Autumn of the Drifting Storm occurs, and Julius is faced with an impromptu mental health diagnosis_

* * *

I'd wanted to take the scenic route through Fairy World, but Jorgen bringing his staff down hard and sending us off with an explosive  _poof_  was certainly a more efficient method of travel. After whizzing painfully through the air for nearly a minute, Mona and I plopped down with a thump on a fluffy street that could only belong to some brightly-coloured location in Fairy World. Coughing on the cloud of dust that accompanied our unflattering entrance, we sat up on our knees and peered around.

On either side of the road, small slope-roofed dwellings stood in lines as though planted in a garden, their plots of purple grass and fluffy blue bushes divided by white fences much simpler than the elegant designs Anti-Penny had shown me during my architecture studies. I'd anticipated wooden structures, but found myself faced instead with buildings pieced together from small square blocks the Fairy Worlders called cloudstone. We weren't far from the town well, with its wooden bucket to scoop ice crystals from the clouds below. At the end of the street, I could just see a rather large grey building with thick cables spanning from it and across the sky. The tram station. We didn't have any of those in Anti-Fairy World, but they were supposed to make travel a breeze for naiads- the word for any Fairy without wings. The several dozen snow-capped mountains in the distance beyond the station must be the Tortoiseshells, which (along with the huge gap of sky beyond the cloudcliffs) divided little backwoods Novakiin from the bustle of Faeheim itself.

"Ho hum. So these are the depths of Fairy World." No stereotypical cloudstone paths winding every which way that I could see. Although in retrospect, this was a small town we were visiting, so it only made sense that the road would be comprised of nothing but glittery pink and white fluff. The soft vapour squished between my fingers, moulding around my hands like clay. When I crushed it in my fist, it turned to powder and condensation, leaving my palm spotted with streaks and droplets.

"So small," murmured Mona, sizing up the nearest small building with wide eyes. "Legitimate locals literally love living like this?"

"Some of them do. It's less common for gynes, I think- the freckled Fairies, I mean. They prefer large spaces open enough for them to manage entire estates, and the drones loyal to them live on with them too. Regular kabouters, however, do tend to prefer these small residences. See it, Mona?" Of course she did, but I pointed at one of the structures with my wand anyway. "Little places like these happen to be the most common dwelling style in Fairy World. It's called a  _house_. A close family live in it together. Just those who are explicitly related; mums, dads, children. That's it."

"House," she repeated, and shook her head in bewilderment. I smiled and helped her to her feet by the hand.

I had to hand it to Jorgen; his accuracy of gauging our location out of every possibly point in Fairy World was astonishing. He'd only missed by three houses. Number 37 fit my mental image of a Fairy nobleman's home designed in the architectural stylings of the Central Star Region, albeit this particular example looked more reserved in decor than the splendour I'd been told to expect. The L-shaped building perched off on its own at the curve of the street, facing away from the mountains and tram station, and instead towards the buttes and beaches that bordered the sharp drop off the cloudcliff. I'd never been on a Plane of Existence this low before. Off that drop, I knew, it was a straight shot down to actual Planet Earth itself, with its oceans, mud, frequent precipitation, and temperate seasons.

Number 37 was lovely to look at, with rounded archways bordering the door and each of three windows on this side (glass windows, of course). Half the house looked to be made from actual cloudstone, the other half imported stucco still bearing the golden grittiness of Earthside sand. The grass in the courtyard was kept trim and absent of weeds, the path lined with short hedges on one side. Wide, semi-circular steps led up to the front door. A small, stone-lined pond accented with a miniature waterfall glittered in the violet grass out front; once I jimmied the lock on the fence using the knife in the handle of my wand, Mona and I scampered over to see it and crouched down with our hands grasping our knees. Swimming around were the biggest greyfish I had ever seen, coated with piebald markings. There were even a few red-throated glimmerbacks in there. Ha! We didn't have anything like this back in Anti-Fairy World! Our water froze too far from the border. When I dipped my finger in, the pond felt much warmer than the water I was used to at home.

After bouncing up to the three rounded steps to the door, I turned to Mona. "Well? This is it, my dear. We've done it! We actually made it all the way to Fairy World! Are you ready?"

She hopped from her left foot to her right. "And excited."

"As am I. Come on now." The door itself was wooden, but it had a square glass window embedded in its upper half. Mona flew up and knocked on that with her knuckles until we could pick up footsteps on the other side. Elated, we exchanged a glance and straightened our backs. I ran my claws over my scruffy hair in a feeble attempt to smooth it down. Mona flipped her hair out from beneath her amauti, humming softly.

The door was answered and pulled inward by a grown, pretty damsel dressed in a pale blue bathrobe that wasn't tied. Rather, she held it closed at her chest with her hand. In the hand she'd used to open the door, she also balanced a long yellow stick. A trail of sugar powder wafted into the air from one of its end. Her dark blue hair was pinned up, twisted and overlaid with braids in a short tower of sparkling curls that would have put anyone's  _but_  my mum's to shame. Above her head floated a golden crown with six sharp points. Might she be Fergus' wife, perhaps?

"Anti-Fairies," she observed, peering down her nose at us. She sounded amused, not annoyed or even surprised. She brought the yellow stick in her hand to her mouth, then blew a small cloud of what I assume was sugar powder into the air. "You little rascals are a long way over the border. I assume you've come here deliberately. What can I do for you?"

Mona nudged me with her foot. I cleared my throat, brushing my hands down the front of my tunic. Forcing my anxious hackles to remain flat was more of a challenge. "Yes, well. Good day, my dame. My name is Julius, and I've been informed that this is or was the residence of a Whimsifinado family. My hope is that you can direct me to an Ambrosine Whimsifinado. You see, I've come here to request he proctor a particular intelligence test for me. I plan to exceed all expectations using my superior intellect, and go on to enrol in the level of school I'm best suited for. If, however, Fergus Whimsifinado is present here, I would also be interested in speaking with him as well. He knew my father, you know."

"Can't call Keepers on us kids," Mona blurted, clutching the hems of her amauti sleeves in her fists. "Please?"

"We're here on personal business," I clarified, bobbing my head at the Fairy damsel. "Not on bad luck-distributing duties of any sort. We're off the clock unless something around here happens to trigger us or any vicious umbrae, you see. Don't worry. Mona here is trained in umbrae combat, and I'm an apprentice homeostasis specialist myself."

The damsel broke eye contact with us. "Homeostasis specialist? Isn't that a euphemism for 'demon summoner'?"

"Oh. You know about that. Yes, well." A bit nervous that I had said too much, I brushed some of my hair towards my cheek. "Yes. I admit that I am presently learning to summon and control demons such as the umbrae. It was under Ambrosine Whimsifinado's personal recommendation, if you happen to know him. But I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me. The most I can urge them to do so far is tie a fellow's shoelaces together. Really nothing destructive at all."

Mona put her arm around my shoulder. "He'll hail horrendous havoc hastily, honey."

I cleared my throat. "Mona, let's not brag now. I'm not an adult quite yet."

Leaning away, the Fairy called deeper into the house, "Amby, honey, you have company."

A muffled, confused groan sounded from the back and to the left of the building, at the end of a corridor. My ears twitched. With a smirk, the damsel tilted her head inside. "He'll be a minute. Why don't you both come in and settle?"

"Thank you, dame." She'd called for "Amby", presumably short for "Ambrosine". So Fergus Prime's permanent residence in the cloudlands was actually the residence of his father? Frankly, I didn't blame him; this abode may be a single building, but it packed all the style of Winkleglint's estate. Although, to my disappointment, I couldn't pick up any trace of Fergus' spicy, smoky pheromones here. I suppose he really had gone rogue from the cloudlands after all.

I studied the damsel in the doorway again. Perhaps my judgment was primed considering my location, but her blue-violet eyes reminded me strongly of Emery from back when I was five. Most probably, then, she was Emery's mother. Given that Ambrosine was a common fairy and their subspecies was supposed to be strictly monogamous for life, she had to be his wife, and Fergus' mother too (I found that she did share a squarish sort of jawline with him, if you squinted enough). Obviously, this must be Solara Posy. Or perhaps Solara Whimsifinado would be the more accurate name.

Solara shut the door behind Mona and I, and gestured with her powder stick at the sofa on the left side of the den. No roosts. Every movement she made was a flowing one. The sweet, tempting allure of sugar wafted around my nose. I inhaled it as Mona and I sat on the rounded sofa, trying to maintain the image of an innocent, proper child and not let on that I was doing so. Rather, I disguised myself by coughing into my fist and glancing around. The den, I observed, was strangely unseparated from the kitchen and dining area. Rather, they were both connected to form one large room, though I couldn't help but observe that the sink was full of dishes. For the first time, it occurred to me that most Fairies, even those of noble standing, probably didn't have servants to keep things tidy for them. Perhaps that was at least part of the reason behind choosing to own such small living spaces.

In the centre of the den area stood a low black table lined with silver on the edges. A mug half-full of sweet-scented herbal tea, evidently Solara's, stood guard beside a stack of parchment. An unlit fireplace lay across the room, logs smouldering with embers, and a stuffed pink chair perched to the right of it. Although the fireplace wasn't burning, several candles in little silver dishes sat on tables around the room, filling it with the gentle scent of rosemary. I imagine the room was intended to foster a venue for communication, although I detected more than a few unstructured corners that a stream of pure karma would bounce off as opposed to glide smoothly over. How embarrassing.

Nothing balanced on the white mantel apart from two small paintings framed and free of dust. Both fairies showed their teeth through their grimacing smiles. One was a young damsel with short black hair, outfitted in purple with her hands tucked in their usual pockets on the front of her baggy shirt. Emery. The other painting depicted a pale, chubby-bodied drake in a fuzzy grey jumper; lavender-eyed, his hair scruffy and black, his forehead creased with irritation. The crown floating low above his head was golden too, but to my shock, several of its points had actually broken right off. Or perhaps had never been. The artist had captured the rough-and-tumble air about him, from the wild spikes at the sides of his hair to smears of dirt across his face. He held his shoulders tensely, ready to snap down his wings and bolt at a mere moment's notice. Light brown freckles bridged his nose and spotted his sharp cheeks. A distinctive spiral cowlick curled out from the back of his hair, just like Ambrosine's, only it swirled low instead of high. I'd noticed that exact same swirl showing up in Anti-Robin's sketches a hundred times. Ha. I certainly didn't have to ask who  _that_  bloke was.

Curiously, an enormous cloth map of the Lower East Region of the cloudlands hung, centred, above the mantel. A distinct path had been marked with pink arrow symbols. Beside the map hung a red loop of ribbon weighed down by a sparkling silver medal. Something about the set-up bothered me, and for a long moment, I sat with my cheek resting against my hand and my elbow in my other palm, just studying the trail on the map. What would a fairy want to keep a map of the Lower East Region for? That was Anti-Fairy territory, represented on the Council by the Teal Robe. Fairies had no claim to it.

Solara noticed me looking as she brushed past and took the place on my left. Settling, she cleared her throat. "Are you very interested in history, Julius?"

"Oh… I've had a couple years of studies. I'm in training to become a homeostasis specialist someday, you remember, and the first thing we have to memorise as part of our architecture studies is the timeline of major events in general Fairykind history, yes." I stared at the map a few seconds longer, then snapped my fingers. "I say! That's the path the Mulberry Division took during the War of the Sunset Divide when they caused the collapse of the Soil Temple and went on to destroy the Shadow Bridge that connected Luna's Landing to Earth." I had a sudden inkling regarding what the medal must be for, then.

"Is it?" Solara asked absently, adjusting her mug on the low table.

I leaned forward, pinching my clasped hands between my knees. "Yes. My paternal grandfather Anti-Gonzo Anti-Cosma was part of the force that relocated the Anti-Fairy refugees, both those who were forced into the cloudlands from Earth and those dwelling in Fairy World. Back before the war, Anti-Fairies used to have homes and colonies in Fairy World, of course. Why, Anti-Gonzo even relocated my maternal grandmother Anti-Miranda when she was pregnant with my mum's elder sister, Anti-Joanie, and raising my uncle Anti-Harold too. Had there not been a war, I may have been born in the Lower West Region, represented on the Fairy Council by the Green Robe." Back in those days, it hadn't been law that Anti-Fairies could only hold position as the Navy, the Teal, or the Maroon…

"Your grandmother was pregnant with your mum's  _elder_  sister?"

I nodded. "My grandmother was favoured of the nature spirits. We Anti-Luniflys are descended from the Teumessian fox herself, you know. Her Glory Cadmea's blood runs in our veins. When we're on the run, we can't be captured unless we choose to be. We were a valuable asset during the war, and it's why my grandmother was relocated to the Anti-Coppertalon colony. The Anti-Luniflys have been nobles ever since."

Solara groaned. She took a sip of tea before pressing it back on the little black table. "The kid's grandma was pregnant with her second pup during the war. Good dust, I'm getting old."

"Yes, dame."

Mona elbowed me between the ribs.

"No, dame," I corrected myself.

A few seconds later, my flicking ears picked up the sound of sleepy footsteps. Ambrosine walked, not floated, down the hall, dressed in a maroon bathrobe. His wasn't tied either, nor did he hold it closed. It hung around him like a duster, revealing his bare chest and, well, his, um… his pants. They were purple. Mona and I both glanced away, she with a hum while I bunched the hem of my tunic in my hands.

With a sigh, Solara took another draw on her powder stick. "I see that despite my warning, you didn't even bother to get dressed."

"If that's Fergus showing up on my doorstep unannounced in the middle of the night after all these millennia, he doesn't deserve to see me dressed," Ambrosine muttered through a yawn. He shoved his fingers through his black hair, adjusting a thin metal instrument on his nose at the same time, then saw us and stopped. "Why are there Anti-Fairy pups in my keeping room?"

I stood and placed my hand to my chest. "Yes. I'm Julius Anti-Lunifly, as you recall. From the Blue Castle? You paid us a visit three years ago. Do you remember that? I recall that Fairies aren't the best at remembering things, so it seems polite to ask. I'm eight years old now. You're the one who determined I held mastery over the skills of designing a room to achieve appropriate levels of karmic flow while keeping the room's elements distinct enough for those who navigate by echolocation to determine one thing from another. This here is my betrothed, Mona Anti-Feldspar. She's six. Don't be at all wary of us, please. We haven't come to cause you any misfortune, I assure you. Rather, I am in dire need of something only you - Yes, you! - can provide. What do you say to that, hm?"

For a brief moment, nothing. Ambrosine pulled his robe shut and tied it with a careful knot. He glanced at Solara, who gazed back at him with a young, innocent look on her face, her lips pressed lightly together as though she had just given him a wrapped gift, and was awaiting his reaction once he removed the shiny paper. To me, Ambrosine said, "How much sleep did you get last night, Julius?"

I frowned. "What an odd question. None at all. Why?"

"You came all this way from the Blue Castle without any sleep, did you?"

"Oh, yes!" I braced my hands against the low table, barely restraining the urge to wag my tail straight out of my pants. "I was so excited to come see you, you see, and I feel absolutely exhilarated! Why, I ran most of the way here,  _and_  outsmarted a von Strangle along the way, hahaha! Ohh, what fun."

"And…" He studied me with groggy eyes. "Exactly how much time did you spend planning this little visit across Fairy World?"

I drummed my claws along the table top. "Hmm. Not quite half of an entire day, I suppose, but I was up all night working out the details too."

"I see you came here in a damsel's company."

"Of course." Grabbing Mona's hand, I pulled her off the couch and had her stand beside me. "Mona is my betrothed. Isn't she a lovely flower of precious glory? Someday we're going to be married, and we'll have the healthiest and most gorgeous pups you've ever seen. You see, I intend to crack the secret of Anti-Fairy heat cycles and find a loophole around my own infertility. When I'm through, Anti-Fairies are going to have enough pups to outnumber you Fairies at least 4 to 1! Nay, 5! Ohh, can you imagine how that will turn out for you lot? I give myself gooseflesh just dwelling upon the possibilities, aha!"

Ambrosine touched his lips with his fingers. "I see… Julius, have there been any times in recent memory when you felt completely overwhelmed with crushing despair? Especially for days at a time?"

Dropping Mona's hand, I plucked up the warm mug of tea that perched on the low table, switched it to my left hand, and took a long sip. It was surprisingly lemony, and really quite good, although frankly I would have preferred a hint of dry ginger or perhaps some honey mixed in too. I did so love the taste of honey. "Oh, I'm over that miserable week now, you understand. A minor inconvenience, that; merely a slip-up on my part. From now on, I'm not going to let myself feel sorry for failing to help other people with their problems. Working on other things is much more fun, don't you agree? You must, seeing as you've chosen to follow a career in therapy. Yes, I'm sure you understand. It's what you do, an integral part of your very being."

Ambrosine, holding the ties of his bathrobe in his hands again, studied me with half-lidded eyes. Even so, the bright shade of blue pierced me through the chest. "Unfortunately, all my prescription papers are up at Wish Fixers, and the pharmacy is shut down since it's Thursday anyway…"

Not sure what he was getting at, I shrugged again. "Oh, that's no matter at all, sir. All I need from you is the intelligence test, no prescription drugs of any sort required. Well? Can you proctor it now? I'd really like to get it done as soon as possible, and then I wish to hit the highest level of upper school I can reach that my age and brains will allow, and absolutely blow all those miserable little Fairy twits out of the water! It's going to be brilliant!"

"Because of the way you rapidly fluctuate between overly energetic and lethargic moods, I'm diagnosing you with  _divus_ displacement disorder." There wasn't a gram of sugar-coating in his words.

"Say what, now?" Folding my arms, I tapped my foot against the floor, and my claws against the mug. "Hmm. I don't remember requesting a diagnosis on my mental state. No, I don't recall asking your opinion at all. What I requested is an intelligence test. I've crossed half of Fairy World to get one now, and I'm certainly not leaving here without it."

Ambrosine massaged one of his temples as he stared down at me, pity etched across his round face. "Julius, I think I need to give you The Talk."

I rolled my eyes and fluttered my fingers his way, not uncrossing my arms. "Ambrosine, believe me, I'm nearly a decade old now. I pieced together all that stuff about the wands and the wings ages ago, good man."

"I mean about the nests and the honeycomb. Of course, we usually give this talk in spring." Ambrosine blew out the air that had filled his mouth, his eyes wandering to the ceiling. "You see, Julius, every decade on Easter, the Easter Bunny brings a basket of duck and goose eggs to all the young freckled Fairies who are over 5,000 years old. When baby ducks and geese, or ducklings and goslings if you will, first hatch from their eggs, they imprint on the first living creature they see. They can even imprint on bouncing balls. Or, as you can imagine, on a freckled fairy, otherwise known as a gyne. A gyne must be very gentle with the Easter ducklings in their care, raising them to be fine adult birds. And when bees hatch from their honeycomb cells, well, some bees are born to be queens, leaving the rest to eke out their existence as workers…"

"Sir, my brain is easily advanced enough to comprehend the straightforward realities of what you want to say without the need to dress them up in pretty acts of storytelling." I took another sip of tea. "Give it to me hot, darling."

"There isn't really an easy way-"

" _Divus_  displacement disorder means you're really a drone Fairy who was born in the body of an Anti-Fairy, kiddo," Not-Solara summed up, swirling her powder stick through the air.

"I know what it means!  _Divus_  is the suffix in  _Faedivus_ , the genus name for Fairies, after all." My cheeks burned. I pretended not to notice Mona's stare on the back of my head. "A-and that's simply not true! I don't have any drone-like behaviours. There's nothing in my biology that suggests I should be one, or any kind of Fairy at all."

"You see," Ambrosine began patiently, "in times of danger, our ancient ancestors the Aos Sí literally Split their minds and bodies apart to become the three races we refer to collectively as the Sluagh. The process is repeated even now when trace amounts of lifesmoke and lifemist fly across the cloudlands to locate their hosting counterpart, and absorb aspects of their host's personality before flying off again to take residence in their actual physical bodies. The process normally goes smoothly, but sometimes, a little too much Fairy is brought back to the body of an Unseelie Courter. We don't know why yet. And when that happens, a young, unstable Anti-Fairy will fumble through life until he imprints on the first gyne whose pheromones really fill his nose and starts behaving like a-"

 _"No!"_  I squeezed my eyes shut, tightening my toes against the hard floor. "The literal Splitting of the Aos Sí into three separate counterparts is a Daoist belief. We Anti-Fairies don't believe in the teachings of your silly religion. Evolution is the way it happened- evolution from dust or mist or smoke. I didn't imprint on Fairy-Fergus when I sniffed his census card! I'm not a dumb goose or a bee. I'm a person! A person in control of myself and my behaviours. A-and it's not your decision to make whether I'm a real Anti-Fairy or not."

"I'm a mind and magic therapist for Fairies, Anti-Fairies, and Refracts alike. Diagnosing  _divus_  displacement disorder is what I do."

"If- if I wasn't a real Anti-Fairy, would I be wishing I could roost upside-down right now? Being upright for so long makes me dizzy. O-or, would I know how to summon and disable umbrae?"

Ambrosine looked at me, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. "What if I had you take a foolproof test for me, Julius?"

"Absolutely. I'm an Anti-Fairy at heart through and through, and I can prove it."

Ambrosine walked over to a bookcase on the far side of the sofa, took a single scrap of parchment, a brush, and a pot of black ink, and placed them on the table in front of me. "All right. I'd like you to pick up that brush, and draw a circle on the parchment."

I frowned. "Draw a circle? What kind of circle?"

He lifted just one eyebrow. "That's up to you. Draw whatever feels right when you think 'circle.'"

Uncertainly, I handed my mug to Mona, then plucked up the brush and switched it over to my left hand. What kind of circle would prove undeniably that I was meant to be an Anti-Fairy? A perfect one? A shaky one? Hmm. Ambrosine seemed to enjoy relying on stereotypes about my race, so maybe this was a test to see if an Anti-Fairy would actually follow a Fairy's instructions to keep my work on the parchment. Even so, I hesitated, a drip of ink from the brush falling with a splatter. Of course, black ink wouldn't really show on the black wood of the table, and I was a guest in Ambrosine's home. Although he'd offended me, I didn't really want to ruin something he held dear.

But I had to prove I was an Anti-Fairy _some_ how… So I made the swishing mark on the table top without regrets and threw the brush down again.

"There you go. A perfect circle. Only a true anti-fairy would draw a mathematically perfect circle like this one. The radius remains even all the way around, you see?"

Ambrosine folded the middle and pinky fingers of one hand over his lips. His pointer finger lay parallel to his cheek. "How wobbly or well-curved the circle is had nothing to do with the instinct I was measuring. The point is, you didn't draw it anti-clockwise. And so, when taken in the context of your other symptoms…"

Every gram of magic in my blood thudded to my feet right then. "No," I said, my voice cracking. I pulled away, covering my mouth. "You- you- Why, you cad! You quack! You must have known I write with my left hand! That's why you gave me this test! You knew I'd draw it in that direction!"

I wasn't an anti-fairy with a drone Fairy's brain. I didn't imprint on Fergus Prime. I'm me.

"Julius." Mona reached up to touch my elbow. "I'll find faithful fondness for you, friend or Fairy."

Miserably, I reached over to put my arm behind her neck. That was the first time I looked at the tea I'd handed her, and it finally clicked that it wasn't mine. I looked up to see Solara and Ambrosine both staring at me, their heads both cocked in opposite directions so their floating crowns nearly bumped. Still a little flustered, I carefully returned the mug to the little table and nudged it closer to Solara. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry I took that. I wasn't even thinking. Here you are. I'll keep my hands to myself from here on out. Really, forgive my lack of manners. That's unbecoming of me."

Solara sighed. "Keep the drink, hon."

"No, no, I insist. It was yours first, after all, and this is your residence. I only touched this one part of the rim, and I'm positive I didn't transfer any germs." One benefit of having such acidic saliva: many bacteria couldn't survive it.

"I can't." Solara shifted in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. The hem of her bathrobe rose dangerously up her calf- nearly to her knee, I couldn't help but notice. Motioning vaguely with her powder stick, she said, "I'm well over the age of 150,000."

"Looking lively, lady," Mona interjected, and Solara flashed her a smile.

"Your kindness precedes you, kid. Even so, I am an adult. My immune system will reject Anti-Fairy hormones passed along through your bodily fluids. If I taste an Anti-Fairy's saliva, even that of a young drake like yourself, I'll suffer Rhoswen syndrome, and we can't have that, can we now?"

"You'll start wanting to kiss Anti-Fairies if you taste our saliva?" I asked in surprise. Seriously, that… that sounded painful. Automatically, I glanced down at the mug. It hadn't started dissolving beneath the touch of my lips. Yet.

Ambrosine folded his arms. "'Wanting' isn't precisely the word for it. Rhoswen syndrome is a serious condition, much more intense and destructive than simple attraction. The only people who think that's what it means have never experienced the actual effects. See, Rhoswen syndrome is…"

He made groping motions with his hand as he felt with the word, then upturned his palm. "It's the sudden, short-term, nearly uncontrollable urge to honey-lock with a member of the opposite Court. The intense feelings can last for hours, days, weeks, or months depending on how much fluid entered the system. While it affects Seelie and Unseelie Courters alike, it certainly seems to affect Seelie Courters hardest- presumably because they feel a sudden disconnect with  _two_  Unseelie counterparts, not just  _one_  Seelie. There's a reason we don't accept blood donations between our two races." Ambrosine adjusted his feet, briefly glancing down. "You're an Anti-Fairy, Julius. You understand the desire of the universe to maintain balance. Homeostasis. Fairies, Anti-Fairies, and even Refracts are too impure in their mortal forms to handle the kind of raw, godly bliss that kissing across Court boundaries offers."

… That couldn't be right. No kissing across Court boundaries, ever? But what about true love?

"Have you ever experienced Rhoswen syndrome, Ambrosine?"

"No, but I'm a mind and magic therapist. True, my main focus is children, but helping those suffering with Rhoswen syndrome regain control of their lives is another of my specialties."

While I was still reeling from the shock of the whole concept, Ambrosine finished his explanation of mortal impurity with, "It's only after death that the spirits of three counterparts can come together as a whole in a solidified Daoine form."

I frowned. "Well, I'm not so sure about that."

"You're just a child," Ambrosine assured me. "You wouldn't have been exposed to much Daoine doctrine in Anti-Fairy World."

"I'm a believer in the Zodii teachings." I emphasized "Zodii", maintaining eye contact. "I believe that the nature spirits influence our world and use their abilities to encourage and guide us towards our most satisfying fate. We are their masterpieces. When we die, the smoke and spirit that control our physical body are reused according to the spirits' intent. We may become plants or rivers or storms, or, if we are favoured, we might inhabit the body of one of our descendants. Daoine forms are not, as you Daoist folk insist, the spirits of the deceased. They're what's left of the damned after the nature spirits have afflicted their curse on those who attempt to venture to Plane 23 even after Evadne and Ione were struck down. Let me assure you that I have no intention, now or ever, of switching over to the teachings of Daoism."

Solara drew again on her powder stick. Curls of magic swirled from her nostrils in a delicate cloud of wispy dust. "The kid makes a poetic argument. You have to grant him that."

"I do, thank you, but that aside, how could a Fairy and an Anti-Fairy possibly honey-lock anyway?" I made divisive motions with my hands. "I've always been told that the respective reproductive parts of Fairies and Anti-Fairies are far too different to come together in passionate relations, not unlike those of an Earthside bat and a dragonfly. You have your double organs and your sperm-storing pouches, and we have our vertically-oriented method of contact and our, mm… barbs. Our systems don't mix directly; if there is to be any intimacy between lower halves of our respective bodies, compromise must be found, and it wouldn't lead to any contact resembling the rather straightforward connection of the honey-lock." I waved my hand. "And I haven't even mentioned the other impractical culture differences. You Fairies prefer breeding only in your individual designated spawning sites that I've heard drakes are extremely particular about decorating, while we Anti-Fairies require upside-down roosting in order to impregnate one another due to the way our parts fit together. I can hardly imagine either side would be content with the others' preferences. Need I go on?"

"I like this kid," Solara said, ruffling my hair with her hand. "He's world-weary already."

"Fairies and Anti-Fairies can't mix." Ambrosine was firm on the matter, his hands tucked away beneath his armpits. When he leaned forward, his dangling wings started to pick up, beating with a low, rapid hum. "And that's the problem. The desperate lust that fills an Unseelie Courter's mind when his honey-lock instinct kicks in will fade after he joins with his honey-lock partner and releases the magical build-up. Satisfaction takes its place. But Fairies and Anti-Fairies are built differently and can't initiate the same act of bonding, so it drives them insane for hours or days until one of them finally tears the other apart in self-defence."

He meant the Anti-Fairy always came out the victor of such skirmishes, I presume, seeing as my people simply turned to smoke when we "died" and then regenerated again. "Ah. That's rather odd, isn't it? Why do you suppose we evolved that way?"

Ambrosine maintained his poise and patient expression, even though I could tell from the ticking chime in the energy field that he was reeling back a definite temper. Carefully, he brushed his palm down his knee. "Evolution has nothing to do with this. It's simply the way we Fairykind are. Having our souls divided between three separate counterparts isn't our natural state. We are descended from the powerful Aos Sí race, and the brain craves a return to that united form. Every Fairykind brain does. Close, intimate bonds with members of the opposite Court are sacred things. Mortals aren't ready for that. Allowing contact in this impure state overexcites the neurotransmitters to the point of instability."

I folded my arms. "Why, now that's curious. I thought you Daoist folk kissed your Refracted counterparts as part of your baptism ceremonies. The High Countess herself taught us that."

He inclined his head very slightly. "When we're underage. The hormones involved in true Rhoswen syndrome don't seize hold of the mind until you develop your adult body. And, in our coming-of-age ceremonies, we are very careful not to exchange saliva with our counterparts. Pecks are kept light and chaste."

Hmm… As Ambrosine continued to stare at me, and Mona fidgeted at my side, I scratched my chin. "Well, logically, if a Fairy really does react negatively to Anti-Fairy bodily fluids as you so claim, would it not be beneficial then to expose Fairykind youth to trace amounts of cross-Court blood samples frequently prior puberty, in the same way a vaccine could aid one in building up an immunity as a result of being exposed to a small scrap of disease?"

Ambrosine shook his head. "No. Fairies and Anti-Fairies just aren't meant to mix in this life. Nothing we do can change that."

"But in my family-"

"No."

"Before the war, my grandmother Anti-Miranda was married to a-"

"No."

"But my uncle Anti-Harold's step-family-"

"Julius, an entire war was fought over this issue for more than thirty years. The separationists won, and the blenders lost. We have the Barrier in place for good reason, for the physical and psychological health of both our peoples. It's logical fact. Please do not argue with me about this."

He kept that one eyebrow high above the rims of the instrument on his nose, arms still crossed. It was quite the annoying posture, and I knew at once that I could make no headway against it, even though I hadn't finished debating with him yet. "Whatever," I muttered. Sighing, I bent my head and leaned forward with my hands on my knees. My bangs fell into my eyes. "I see. Well, with that behind us, let's get to that intelligence test now. Mona, I imagine you ought to stay behind so I may best concentrate while I work. Yes. Um. Thank you for allowing us inside and pleasuring us with your lovely conversation, Dame Solara. It was much appreciated while it lasted."

The mug she'd just picked up slipped from her fingers and fell to the hard floor. It didn't shatter entirely, though part of the rim chipped off and skidded away towards the kitchen side of the front room. Tea droplets splattered. Mona flinched. Abruptly Solara rose, fixing her stare on Ambrosine. He stood there, bug-eyed and mortified. Then he slid off the instrument on his nose and started to polish the glass half-circles on the hem of his shirt.

"Where did you hear that name?" Solara snapped at me, her hair bristling up. Her creamy fingers clenched in the folds of her bathrobe, disappearing like milk amidst soup. "In this household, we don't speak that name."

"I-it was in my father's notes." As she leered at us, Mona and I shrank into the cushions. "He- he mentioned that Anti-Fergus was born of a union between Anti-Ambrosine and Anti-Solara. I'm terribly sorry. I just assumed you and she were one and the same, you know what I mean?"

Solara, or I suppose the damsel who  _wasn't_  Solara, sank slowly back into her chair and placed the back of her wrist against her forehead. " _Ní larki._  Here I am paying a pleasant visit to Novakiin in the hopes of enjoying a restful weekend retreat while Emery is away at school, and this strange child waltzes in and starts throwing the Solara name all about like that. I can't- I just can't. Amby, dear, I can feel the most dreadful migraine coming on. Would you get the chocolate-maple ice cream?"

I fully expected Ambrosine to wave his wand and  _poof_  her request straight out of the icebox, but instead, he drifted across the kitchen to fetch it by hand, along with some relatively clean dishes drawn from the bulging sink. Oh, right. Whimsifinado family. They'd made their fortune in frugality. Of course he wouldn't waste magic on something so frivolous as that.

"I, um… I apologise for my assumptions, dame. If I may change the subject?" I waited a polite beat, fingering Mona's hand, then said, "Could you tell me what exactly happened to Fergus Whimsifinado? This address is listed as his permanent residence in the official cloudland census. However, he's marked as absent without official leave. I'd be interested in having a conversation with him. You see, I have reason to believe he knew my father; access to a primary source, if you would."

"Always knew the brat would turn out to be a cream puff," she muttered.

"A cream puff, dame?"

Not-Solara grunted into her mug, bringing it back to her lips. "A much prettier way of saying he liked to schmooze up to Unseelie Courters. Their fur or feathers literally puff when they're flustered, and the face you make when you see 'em that way looks like you're the cat who got into the cream. Cream puff."

The word was new to me, but Ambrosine almost dropped the ice cream carton upon returning to the den. "Dear! They're children. They don't need to hear this."

She rolled her eyes. "Amby, if they're illegal border-crossers who managed to stalk you halfway across Fairy World, I think they're mature enough to handle a little vocabulary lesson regarding the finer points of life. Plus, you're the one who said Julius here imprinted on Fergus' pheromones in the first place. Seeing as he's stuck with that reek in his little brain for the rest of his life, he at least deserves to know a bit about who the guy actually was."

"Hold on now, hold on!" My hands went to my mouth. Then to my temples. "You mean, Fergus Whimsifinado actually had intimate relations across Court boundaries? Rhoswen syndrome notwithstanding?" Could he do that these days? Could  _I_  do that these days? My mind flashed back to my father's notes. Of course, he only recorded meeting Fergus once, back when he was young. A critical act of kindness had turned my father from a lousy troublemaker to being gentle and helpful to Fergus' counterpart to balance out the resulting karma. He claimed he never saw Fairy-Fergus again.

But for the first time, I wondered if my father had gotten his coloured eyes from my mother after all. Anti-Shylinda had gotten the iris virus off Jay Rhoswen so many ages ago, granting favour to the Anti-Coppertalon line. My eyes shot to the framed image of young Fergus sitting on the mantel. Well, why couldn't Anti-Robin contract it directly from a Fairy too? Couldn't embarrassing, goody-goody Anti-Robin have been a rule-breaker after all, gone smooching Seelie Courters beneath the blind eye of the law? Oh gods, let it be so. Let him have done  _something_  scandalous that I could boast about to my friends when we gossiped about ways to play with fire! And if it were for true love, all the better.

Ambrosine sighed and floated over with the carton. He handed it and a spoon to Not-Solara. "It's true that my son was never interested in Seelie Courters. I taught him how to woo and how to kiss, but some Fairies are cut out for that lifestyle, and some of them aren't. Despite my best attempts to have him married off and give him someone to care for besides himself, he flat-out wasn't interested. However, I'm not sure I'd go so far as saying he was interested in the Unseelie Court, either. He just…" He blinked. "… wasn't interested in people."

Not-Solara waved her spoon at him. "You left the kid to be raised by prudes for twenty-nine years while you went off to fight a big, flashy war. That's what ruined him as a nymph."

"Gidget and Reuben were hardly what I'd call prudish…"

"But he was intimate with Anti-Fairies," I clarified, holding my interlaced fingers against my chest. "He was, wasn't he?"

Ambrosine would not meet my eyes. "Not really in the conventional sense you're imagining, but there's, um, certainly no denying that Fergus favoured the Refracted in an unusual way."

"How unusual?" I sprang from my seat, ready to fling myself across the room and shake Ambrosine by his collar. _"How unusual?"_

"Because he admired their lifestyle, not so much individual Refracts themselves," Ambrosine said simply.

I rustled my wings. "And what is thaaat supposed to mean?"

Not-Solara leaned her entire head back when she rolled her eyes. "'Cuz the Refracted are so obsessed with 'purity' and avoiding 'sin' that they never stick their grown-up parts anywhere near each other unless they're making babies, cupcake. They're dull and boring. When they get together, all they ever want to do is talk and make nice and plant flowers, instead of actually taking advantage of the alone time and getting hot and steamy. He's saying Fergus was into that kind of smoof."

You could have heard a tuft of fur shed. Then Mona and I both started crying out together.

"But- Refracts don't bond outside the clutches of the honey-lock, not even to express their love for one another?"

"Giving greetings is great to guarantee genuine gentility."

"Then how do they welcome guests visiting their colonies? Or settle disagreements over territory and hunting grounds? After arguing, they have to make up somehow."

"Surely something similar is sufficient for confronting conflict?"

"But what seals their commitment to their mate if they don't regularly express their affections? Who helps to raise their children when their mate inevitably loses interest in them and moves along? Who meets their bonding needs then?"

Ambrosine gave Not-Solara a hard stare like,  _Look at what you've done._

"The kid had an honest question," she protested, still scooping through the chocolate-maple ice cream carton. Her eyes narrowed at him. "Honest questions deserve honest answers, Amby. I thought you of all people would feel that way too. Anyway, he's cute." Here, Not-Solara paused long enough to stretch out her finger and tap the end of my nose. "Boop."

Warily, I leaned back in the sofa cushions, hands clenching the fabric of my seat. "What was that for?"

"I dunno. Impulse? It's your big nose. You're irresistible." Not-Solara glanced over at Ambrosine and  _tsk tsk_ ed softly. "I say you raised Fergus on Unseelie hippie birdmilk. Is it any surprise he turned out the way he did?"

"Well." Ambrosine folded his arms. "I didn't have much of a choice, now did I? The damsel who promised to marry me left me abandoned in the Prudoc hospital with a concussion and a nymph with a broken arm."

Not-Solara's fingers tightened around the spoon. Her wings prickled up behind her shoulders, steadily rising until they framed her face. "And do you remember  _why_  you were in the Prudoc hospital with a concussion and a nymph with a broken arm, Ambrosine? It wasn't because of what your father tried to do to that freckled spawn of yours, I'll tell you that much."

Ambrosine's blue eyes flew open wide. His arms uncrossed instantly, one hand flying for the bookshelf. He fumbled for a small yellow capsule in a box, but his hand shook when he tried to hold it in her direction. "Now, dear-"

"Don't. You. Dare. We are not doing this again, Amby. Not ever again." Carton down. Not-Solara up. With a flutter of her wings, she was out, door slamming behind her. Ambrosine dropped the capsule back in the box and collapsed on the couch, holding his head in his hands. His wings fluttered.

"Are you sure it's our society that's backwards?" I asked. "Because it seems to me that you and your damefriend could use a lesson in peaceful conflict resolution."

His fingers curled in his black hair, knuckles bulging. "I don't take advice from Anti-Fairies."

"Yes, and see where that's gotten you so far. Perhaps it's time you started. I mean, take Mona and I, for example." I gestured to her with my hand. "We never fight anyway, but if we did, you know what our secret is? We Anti-Fairies don't discuss sensitive subjects unless we're in a calm emotional state. Heated tensions are stupid. When there are uncertain discussions to be had, we first use song to communicate our desires, then take it to the roost to talk things out. You aren't so defensive when the clothing comes off and you're preparing for intimacy, I've been told. There, you can peaceably weigh opposing views on all matter of things, from where to strike first during war to what you believe should be had for dinner that night. It really helps you see both sides of a debate."

Mona nodded empathetically. "Songs soothe souls. Having hate is heinous."

Ambrosine kept his head low, his hands now clasped between his spread knees. The energy field shivered with hail on a tin roof and swirling snow on a blustery day. "It just doesn't work like that for Fairies. Where I'm from, bedding a Fairy damsel to tell her what you want for dinner is a good way to get yourself slapped." Briskly he stood. "Julius, you wanted me to proctor an in-depth intelligence test. Let's get on that."

"Wait wait wait wait!" I flung my arms towards the door of his house. "You aren't seriously going to leave your love floating about out there feeling unwanted, are you? You have to go make up with her."

"She'll be back." He threw a scornful look at the box on the bookshelf. "Considering what my wing-jerk reaction is when I lose, I keep forgetting that it's in my best interest to actually win our fights these days."

" _What?_ What kind of coping mechanism is that?" I jabbed my claw towards the door again. "Good glory, swallow your pride and chase after her, you clueless dope. She's hurting and she needs you. I've waited this long to take that test, and I can wait a little longer. Your relationship comes first. Now, get your saucy tail feathers out in that street and make passionate love to that glorious woman, _bloody smoke!_  Hello? Must I draw you a picture?"

As Ambrosine began to gather stacks of bark strips and parchment from the bookshelf in the corner, he tactfully refused to look me in the eye. "And that will reinforce her spiteful behaviour," he explained lightly, laying out his texts on the black table. He set a small grey chest beside it and unfolded it to reveal a collection of small blocks, the colours on their sides divided into triangle patterns. "Then we will argue more, which inevitably will lead to frequent episodes of passion, which will eventually result in her wanting to stay on with me, which will result in the overjustification effect as I grow bored with her, which will lead to more arguments, which will lead to expectations and frustrations, and we can't have that." Finally, slapping the last text down with the flat of his hand, Ambrosine did look at me again. "I would expect a boy who claims to be descended from the Teumessian fox to understand the thrill that comes with being an elusive catch."

Hmph. Maybe I just didn't get this whole "family in a house" lifestyle. At least he was being honest with me. I respected that, even though I wished he would take me and my advice more seriously. One day, when I was older and more imposing. My gaze meandered back to the picture of Fergus on the mantel, judging me with his nervously curled lip and narrow stare, and then to the cloth map hanging above him. I sighed.

"Ambrosine?" As I watched him set up, I rubbed my shoulder. "May I ask you a question? You fought in the War of the Sunset Divide, didn't you?"

"I was drafted in a few years after it started, yes."

"Well, I know it was mostly Fairies fighting Anti-Fairies, but by the time it was over, you took away our culture and tried to shoehorn in your own. Doesn't that bother you?"

"You have to realise that your old customs were too backwards for modern society." Ambrosine's eyes softened when he looked at me. He brought his hand to my shoulder without requesting permission. "I know you have attachment to anything created by your people, but if you had been alive during the war, you would agree with me that the activities your people publicly engaged in weren't proper. Your people were savages. They devoured babies and cursed all who crossed their path. Anyone who believes in promoting those lifestyles needs to be contained in Anti-Fairy World. You have to understand, times have changed. So should you. We're a modern people. We've evolved to be more advanced than our ancestors, as you Zodii might say. That means you have to wear enough clothing in public to cover breasts and tails, and you can't just flit around mating with anyone you want wherever you want to."

"But the word 'mating' implies ideas of deep contact that lead to procreation," I protested. "And saying 'anyone you want' implies we've reduced an intimate activity intended for bonding and relationship elevation down to the simple lazy act of offering currency for greedy personal pleasure, taking without giving in return, without trying to establish a real relationship. But- but- our intimate exchanges aren't  _like_  that. It's purely social behaviour, with gentle touches only lasting for a few dozen seconds at the absolute most. It's like the gyne and drone licking customs. Physical touch means something to us. Really, it's just the mothdames and the people who encourage their commercialised structure who are bad like that. Not the rest of us! The empathy gained from acts of mind-melding and body-melding are simply ways we bond with one another."

Ambrosine sighed. "The overly-promiscuous public behaviours of your people had to be done away with, Julius. You'll understand when you're older."

"Ambrosine, I'm beginning to think that 'the overly-promiscuous public behaviours of my people', as you've so eloquently chosen to put it, are highly sexualised in your people's minds to the point of gross exaggeration. That certainly isn't how we see it. We're a friendly, prosocial species who feel things deeply, and thrive upon empathy and diffused tensions. Put the imagery of spicy, lustful free-for-alls out of your head. That's not what it's like in Anti-Fairy World at all. Our society's method of conflict diffusion is built on simple sociosexual context, not the erotic fantasies of hormonal adolescents."

"I'm going to show you a picture," Ambrosine said. "Use the blocks to recreate the pattern in my picture as accurately as you can."

Another horrible thought came into my head. "Ambrosine? Does this mean that when you visited us at the Blue Castle years ago, you didn't engage in relations with the High Count whatsoever? Even though you and Emery stayed on for supper?" I pressed my fingertips to my lips. "Oh! But, wasn't he insulted that you rejected him?" I could recall the story of a High Countess millennia before Anti-Ember who had been rejected by a guest once, and she'd required a high tribute from his entire town for decades.

Ambrosine took the framed glass circles from his nose and brought them down loudly on the table beside the blocks. His eyes locked onto my face. "All romantic and/or sexual contact between Fairies and Anti-Fairies that has the potential to trigger Rhoswen syndrome has been illegal since the end of the war. This includes the casual pressing together of lower body parts that your people use as greetings and would once force on guests. No exceptions."

"Force?" I wrinkled my nose. "I wouldn't have put it that way. But I say, Ambrosine, that law seems so restrictive. Perhaps I'm not understanding correctly. When you said our Fairy Refract counterparts kiss you during your coming of age ceremonies, you implied that only the exchange of bodily fluids such as blood, saliva, and so forth would result in the mind-seizing effects of Rhoswen syndrome you alluded to, so logically a quick, simple touching of-"

"All intimate or emotionally-prompted touches across Court boundaries are illegal. Please don't discuss it any further."

"Julius," Mona murmured, shifting in her seat.

I tapped my claw against the side of my head. "Ah. You know, chap, I think I see where the confusion lies. While I must admit I don't know all the details of Fairy reproduction, I do have a basic idea. You Fairies have very forward-facing reproductive systems. It seems silly that this could be the reason you find us so offensive, but perhaps, then, simple contact such as pressing the lower body areas together in greeting is much more sensitive and extreme to you than it is us, and the act of making light of such sensations offends you?" I laughed. "You simply aren't built the way we are, so I suppose your hesitation to embrace our culture is understandable. I will explain."

"I'm not looking for an argument, Julius."

"I'm not arguing. I'm discussing my point of view in an intellectually sound manner. Look here, chap. Our reproductive system is vertical. An anti-fairy drake has an organ that points upward at rest, not downward, remaining flat against his stomach, while the damsel's breeding pouch, of course, is an  _entirely_  separate part much higher up the body than the greeting contact area." I pointed to the low triangle of skin between my legs. "There's nothing reproductive way down there, Ambrosine, you understand. It's not but sensitive matter. So you realise, then, there is never a chance of accidental intercourse like the sort you Fairies might possibly experience were you to become aroused during a simple gesture of welcome. Anti-Fairies can only engage for breeding upside-down. Our greetings are all very good and proper, you see, touching near enough to our sensitive parts that we feel elated we have been trusted with such respectful bodily contact, but not at all aroused in a sexual manner. See?"

"Julius," he said patiently when I had finished. "That's enough."

I pursed my lips. "All right. Yes, of course, I'll be done now. But I really am serious about this. When you take the context into account-"

Mona elbowed me in the side. "Seriously. Stop spouting and shush, sweetie."

"Oh, gods, don't tell me I'm being too vulgar for a mature adult to handle." I rolled my eyes. "Rhoswen forbid I remind him about my barbs. See, Ambrosine, the respectful greetings exchanged with our guests foster trust and empathy, and they really aren't seen as anything as vulgar as your people make them out to be-"

Ambrosine jabbed his pointer finger into the table, the tip bending. "This is the world you live in now. We fought a long, bitter war over this. Proper clothing is required in public, even for those with fur. The toxic cross-Court marriages that once infiltrated society were terminated. Medication and therapy were provided for those unfortunate enough to be driven insane by Rhoswen syndrome, even though there was little that could be done to ease their suffering until the foreign DNA worked its way out of their systems over the course of several painful months. Fairies and Anti-Fairies were divided in separate halves of the cloudlands. It's better this way for everyone."

"All right, I do see where you're coming from. It makes sense that your culture's want for privacy would conflict with our desire to have nonverbal expressions of respect and appreciation put out there quickly to ensure everyone knows their opinions are valued and the conflict isn't going to escalate, but you simply must understand-"

"Please focus on this test you want me to proctor. It's expected to take you three hours to complete, and I don't want to hear another word about anything else until we're done."

* * *

**A/N**  - To clarify, Anti-Cosmo has what is basically bipolar disorder. Remember the ups and downs Winkleglint's drones were experiencing once deprived of pheromones? That's such a well-known phenomenon in Fairy society that naturally, that's what Fairies would call it. Luckily, Ambrosine is so very supportive of him.


	10. As Practical As Salt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Divus displacement disorder is similar to bipolar disorder in some ways, and dissimilar in other ways. This is just a fanfic. Divus displacement disorder does draw heavy inspiration from bipolar disorder, but it is not real. Bipolar disorder and the dimensional change card sorter task have nothing to do with one another. The DCCS task is used to study child development, and would never actually be on a legitimate intelligence scale test in the first place. I have taken a few creative liberties here for storytelling purposes.
> 
> My goal is to portray bipolar disorder (or the Anti-Fairy equivalent in this case) thoughtfully and with respect. I do not support harassment towards anyone who has this or any other disorder. However, Anti-Cosmo is both a minority race dealing with fantastic racism from an oppressive system, and he's also a villain on the rise. He will be taking some flak for his various traits, actions, beliefs, and yes, his condition(s) from time to time throughout this piece. This is a fanfic in a fantasy world, and I'm trying to tell a story. BUT, if you do have concerns about any of my portrayals, PLEASE let me know so I can adjust what I'm doing! Your voice matters. Thank you.

_In which Julius takes an intelligence test during the Summer of the Drifting Storm_

* * *

"Do you prefer Mister or Drake?" I asked, kneeling at the low black table. Mona sat behind me on the couch, quiet and content to watch me take my intelligence test in silence. Ambrosine sat across from us in his puffy pink chair by the dim fire (bathrobe and all). He set a glass bowl of mixed-up coloured sand on the table just within my reach.

"Doctor."

"Doctor? What's 'doctor'?"

He paused, and looked at me strangely. "A doctor is someone who's an expert in a particular subject. Or it could refer to someone who works with medicine."

"Oh, so you're a remedy specialist." If that was the case, I wondered why his family was so off the rafter. A damefriend who wouldn't commit, a son who ran away, a daughter with no respect who couldn't recognise times she spoke out of place…

"Never mind." Ambrosine placed a thick, spiral-bound collection of parchments against the edge of the table, propping it up so he could read what it said. He skimmed the first few lines, then looked up at me. "Julius?"

"What?"

"I want you to put your hand in that sand, and dump it on the table."

I studied the bowl for several seconds, then did as he requested. The sand made a puddle, spreading out its ripples in a perfect circle. Ambrosine watched, hands tight around the edges of his book.

"Tell me about that sand."

Shrugging my wings, I pushed two claws through the sand circle and said, "Certainly. Each grain of sand considers itself to be an individual object. As such, magic holds very little sway over it; it's difficult to mass  _poof_ , though you can  _poof_  a bucket containing a load of the stuff with relative ease. It's liable to cling in your fur or wedge beneath your scales, making it an absolute annoyance to pick out. Because each grain is individual, using magic even near a sandy area such as a play-pit or a desert requires utter focus, as it's sooo easy to misfire your spells and stir up a load of sand instead. I have to say that quite frankly, when dealing with grainy substances, I prefer salt. Salt is tasty, and dissolves far more easily when caught in fur."

Ambrosine's eyes tracked my absent-minded fingers for a moment. "I notice you're organising that sand in a certain pattern. Can you tell me about that?"

"Am I?" When I looked down, I realised he was right. The sand was comprised of six colours. The turquoise shade that represented the Water year on the zodiac was absent, forcing me to split my blue sand in half between it and the Sky year. I'd also substituted red sand for Fire orange and pink for Soil brown, but for the most part, I had recreated a tiny version of the Fairy zodiac cycle there on the table. Seven small but very distinct circles of bright sand sat before me like cupcakes on a tray. Not a grain was out of place. I blinked. "Well. We don't have a lot of colour in Anti-Fairy World, so when I'm exposed to it, I suppose I categorise them the way I've been taught to. It just feels right."

"Julius, if a non-magical being poured the sand just like you did, it would make a small heap. Not spread out like yours did originally. Since you have an anti-fairy body and Anti-Fairy magic, the sand responded to your magical influence by forming a perfect circle. And, well… you grouped them together like a cù sith herding sheep."

"Oh. Well. There you go. You know, you're a Fairy. What happens when you spill sand?"

Ambrosine reached over. He took a fistful of sand, grains dribbling back to the glass bowl. After shaking most of the sand off, he was left with just enough to lay cupped in his palm. He closed his hand, rubbing the gritty stuff between his fingers. Then, carefully, he started to pour it onto the table. As they twirled and settled, the grains automatically arranged themselves in layered stripes according to colour: First yellow, then blue, purple, pink, and green. The Fairy Rainbow.

"Members of the Seelie Court, such as myself, secrete natural oils from our pores that leave influential traces of magic on anything we touch. Objects then react to that in reflection of our moods."

"Yes?" My windpipe could have burst from my throat. I swore I could feel my core actually beating. I didn't like where this was going.

He leaned away, brushing the last of the clinging sand away on his thigh. Rainbow grains glittered against black fabric. "Fairies and Anti-Fairies are built differently. I want you to be aware of that before we begin this test."

I pinched my clasped hands between my knees, biting into my lower lip and hoping he wouldn't see. What was that supposed to mean, exactly? Would my test results be as legit as any Fairy's? Or did Ambrosine intend to judge me especially harshly simply because I was born an Anti-Fairy? For the moment, at least, my fate rested under his crown.

"This exam is thorough. We will be engaging in a variety of puzzles and activities, and it's expected to take us three to four hours to reach the end. You can choose if you would prefer to have three long breaks, or five shorter breaks."

I swivelled my ears back to listen for Mona's commentary, but she didn't voice an opinion. So I said, "Three breaks shall be plenty, thank you, Doctor. I'd like to power through. I'm incredibly excited to receive my results, you know."

Ambrosine slid his spiral-bound book across the table, facing me. This was then followed by four red and white blocks, diagonally sliced between the two colours to form triangles on several of the sides. "I'm now going to show you a picture. Use the blocks to recreate the pattern in my picture as accurately as you can. When you have finished, say 'Done', and we'll proceed to the next pattern."

The picture he showed me consisted of four blocks arranged into one large square. Three of the blocks were positioned so their red surface faced upward, but the final of the four blocks had its triangle side upturned, the white triangle pointed in. I took the blocks in my hand. They were smooth, sort of glossy. When I mimicked the pattern to perfection, Ambrosine praised me without emotion, and we went on.

I did blocks for several minutes, studying the designs in the book carefully and copying them precisely with the blocks. As I went farther along, the task became more difficult than I'd anticipated, even though the five additional blocks Ambrosine gradually provided had the same red and white triangle markings and didn't differ from the others in any way. The patterns in his book weren't outlined with black markings to indicate when one block ended and another began, so when the white sides of the blocks faced outward, they blended with the rest of the white page. This was made worse by Ambrosine's judging eyes; if I hesitated too long, he'd give me a few final seconds to scramble my answer together before moving forward.

I didn't let it get to me. I furrowed my brow and focused my concentration on my work with wand-blast precision. I knew exactly what I wanted, and no racist Fairy was going to stand in my way.

"Now we're going to test your memory," Ambrosine said once we finished with the blocks. I don't think he could have sounded more bored if he tried.

"Memory! Ha! Now that's a lark if ever I heard one. It's my understanding that Fairies are notorious for their poor memories. The reason your schooling takes such a ghastly long time is because years upon years - nay, decades! - of learning have to be repeated on a frequent basis." I smiled. "However, you'll soon see that we Anti-Fairies are built to be a more…  _long-standing_  species. It stems, I imagine, from our need to recognise and identify the hundred or so Anti-Fairies belonging to our colonies, not to mention foreign colonies as we grow and begin to migrate. My memory is impeccable. I've never forgotten anything. And that's why I came here to see you. Once you confirm my intelligence, then as I see it, I can simply eliminate every repetitive class in school from my schedule, and I'll breeze through the upper division in no time whatsoever."

"I highly doubt that, bluebell," he muttered.

"Don't believe me?" I laced my fingers together and leaned forward. "Try me. Procure a list of the hundred most difficult words you can think of. No, let's make it interesting. Try me at two hundred. Rattle them off in one go, and I'll recite them back to you in their proper order."

Ambrosine looked at me, his eyes dull. I didn't let my smile fade. Some time ago, he'd brought one leg up and crossed it over his knee. Now, watching me, he let it drop to the floor. The spiral-bound book came down on his lap.

"All right." For the first time, he drew his wand from the pocket of his bathrobe. It was made of some kind of wood, although its yellow cap was crystal. He placed his forefingers to the two ends, absently rotating the wand like a spit over the fire. His eyes roamed up to the ceiling. "Let me think." After a few seconds, he began, slowly, to recite two hundred of what I assume were the most complicated words he knew. A few I didn't recognise. Others I identified easily, but had no idea why, as if they had always been implanted in my brain. I noticed that he made no attempt to copy them down as he spoke them to me, but shrugged that detail off as unimportant. He must know as well as I did how flawless an Anti-Fairy's memory was, so he was just allowing me to show off. I did so enthusiastically, relaying every word back to him in the same order without any hesitation at all.

When I finished, Ambrosine leaned forward, still turning his wand around. "Define them."

My smile froze. "I'm sorry?"

"If you're as intelligent as you claim to be, define them. We'll start with 'compunction' and 'adumbrate', see if we can work our way up to 'iambist' and 'punctilious', and go from there. Unless you wish to forfeit?"

I groaned and covered my eyes with my hand. "No, no, I'll do it appropriately. I know most of these and can use my context clues to figure out the rest.  _Compunction_ : The magic of guilt that urges one not to perform antagonistic actions towards another or towards society.  _Adumbrate_ : To give a brief overview regarding the reasons for something; one instance when this is demonstrated is through the literary device known as foreshadowing."

Before I could go on, Ambrosine held up his hand. "I need you to define them using pheromone cues."

_"What?"_

"It's perfectly understandable if you can't. Everyone has their limits. But for this test to be fair, you understand, I have to put you through the same procedures I give my other test takers."

He made a show of marking an X over the entire section on his scoring sheet. Failed. That lout outright failed me! Just because I wasn't a Fairy! I ground my teeth together so hard, they surely must have splintered. But I said nothing. I couldn't even speak up about it. Fury sparked beneath my fur and rattled the scales on my back. He turned the page, looked at the next thing on his list, looked up at me for a thoughtful moment, and then looked down and drew another X.

"What was that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "I say. Are you failing me on the next item of the test before I even take it?"

Ambrosine stopped marking me off and flicked his gaze up to me. He didn't raise his head, only his eyes. They sparked behind his spectacles. His knuckles tightened around his brush. "I don't need to test you on this one. It's the dimensional change card sorter task, one of the items we use to differentiate gynes and drones from kabouters. You have  _divus_  displacement disorder, so there's no point."

I clenched my hands. "Doctor, I insist you test me as though I were a kabouter fairy. You yourself just said I ought to be subject to the same procedures as everyone else in order for this to be fair."

Mona voiced her confirmation, nestling into a pillow.

"Fine." Ambrosine rubbed the top of his nose. He slid a deck of large square cards over to me, all of them face down. Then he slid over a plastic basket, which he placed on my left side, and a second basket, which he placed on my right. Both had a small card attached to their fronts by a clothespin: one a blue rabbit with tall ears, the other a red cloudship with billowing sails. "We're going to play something called the  _colour game._  What you're going to do is turn over a card, and match the picture on the card to the basket with the same  _colour_. You will decide if your card belongs in the basket with the blue picture or the basket with the red picture during the  _colour_  game. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ambrosine. I understand what colours are. You don't have to speak slowly and enunciate as though Snobbish isn't my first language."

"You can't be too sure. Your people overwhelmingly speak Vatajasa in the Far West Region, you know." He flipped over the top card of his little deck. The picture was mostly white, but showed a red rabbit sitting in its centre. "This is a red rabbit. Where does it belong if we're playing the colour game?"

I took the card away from him and let it drop in the basket with the red cloudship.

"That's right." He leaned forward, touching each basket with his finger. "Blue ones go here and red ones go here in the colour game."

"A stunning revelation. I am astounded beyond all measure."

Ambrosine let me do a few more cards like that, and I got all of them right, before he changed the rules. "You know what? I don't want to play the colour game anymore."

I have never tried as hard to prevent myself from speaking as I did right then to keep myself from blurting, "It can't always be about you, old man."

"Now we're going to play a new game. This new game is called the  _shape_  game. What you're going to do is turn over a card, and match the picture on the card to the basket with the card that shows the same shape. You will decide if your card belongs in the basket with the rabbit, or with the cloudship. Rabbits go here, and cloudships go here in the shape game." For emphasis, he touched the blue rabbit and red cloudship cards on the baskets as he spoke. "Do you understand?"

"Completely."

Ambrosine turned the next card. "This is a red rabbit. Where does it go if we're playing the shape game?"

I set the card in the basket with the red cloudship.

"Where do rabbits go in the shape game?"

I pointed to the basket with the rabbit picture on it.

"Where do cloudships go in the shape game?"

I pointed to the basket with the cloudship picture on it. Ambrosine handed me another card.

"This is a blue cloudship. Where does it go if we're playing the shape game?"

In the blue box, obviously, same as all the others. My memory is flawless, and it's always worked that way before. What am I, a newborn?

"Thank you. We're done here." Ambrosine took the baskets and the cards away. He finished drawing his X on his scoring sheet. My throat burned as I watched him, aware that I had made some sort of mistake despite my best efforts, but I didn't know what to say.

After that event, we progressed toward shape and concept comparisons, then object rotations, then missing puzzle piece identification, and then a task where I took a small workbook and had to skim my eyes rapidly along rows of coloured shapes without pausing, drawing lines through all the blue squares (not the yellow circles) without ever doubling back. The most difficult task I faced was the one involving those drawings of accursed  _scales_. They were golden plates hanging suspended, like the guardians of justice and mercy preparing to deal out a round of unexpected misery and woe. On each scale sat a small coloured shape, such as a triangle, star, or square. Sometimes there were even multiple shapes on both sides of the equation. My job was to select which of the shapes in the answer choices presented below would even the scales out.

It was a problem-solving task. Pick the shape, balance the scales. Simple enough, wasn't it? Only I struggled like a dying wood fire in the kitchen. Suddenly Ambrosine's book showed me too many shapes, every one of them a unique weight that required multiple steps and comparisons against the other shapes to unravel. I should be able to do this. I knew I could do this. But the effort of trying to think while Ambrosine's cold eyes watched me sap up every second made the stress and exhaustion flare in my face. Questions 5, 6, 7… Ambrosine didn't express how well or poorly I did on each one, per se, although I knew from his steadfast indifference that I wasn't any good. With a gloat edging his voice, he informed me that my memory was too powerful. I'd memorised the original listed "weight" of each shape back in Problem 1, and the memory was so lodged in my brain that I couldn't override it with new information when I moved from one problem to the next. I could not adapt. I could not progress. I was, in this area, now blocked off from learning anything more. Such was the fate of an Anti-Fairy.

"I don't believe that's how it works," I said, pressing my fingers to my temples. I filled my cheeks with air, then let them slowly deflate. "After all, when our people come into adulthood, we take on our adult names. Apart from an intimate partner or two, no one refers to them by their private name again after that. We identify them solely by their anti-name. That's a form of overwriting memories, isn't it?"

"My son has extreme trouble overwriting memories," Ambrosine confessed when I flopped my head into my hands, elbows braced on the table. It almost sounded as though he felt a spark of pity for me, which was at least an improvement over apathy.

"How do you mean?" I murmured. To be perfectly honest, I was focusing more energy on determining when my break would come.

"I mean, he can't notice changes to anything he wasn't watching if it didn't look like that when he first came into the room."

I frowned. Then I raised my head. "Come again, my good fellow?"

A nod, strangely encouraging. "When Fergus enters a room, he calculates every minor detail in a matter of wingbeats. Every colour, every scent, every pattern, every texture, every dent in the walls, every fold of fabric, every crumb on the table, every nail clipping on the floor, every bristle on a brush, the dryness of every smear of ink, the glisten of every drop of condensation on every glass, the exact room temperature, the composition of every item of food, the circumference of every round object he's aware of, the volume of every container, the height and weight of almost everything else. If he expands even a morsel of energy, he's hyper-aware."

"Why, that's incredible," I said, not feeling better in the least about my struggles.

Ambrosine shrugged. "He's described it to me, but he doesn't seem to think much of it. Perhaps it's an annoyance to him more than anything else. From what I've gathered, for some reason, the first impression memory he forms when entering a room sticks with him. He has to get by relying on that memory."

"In what way might that be?"

Ambrosine's eyes lingered on me, then slid to the front door. Then to the book in his lap. He sighed, brushing at the page with the backs of his fingertips. "The calculation he made of the room doesn't reset unless he leaves and comes in again. If he's looking the other way and you subtly switch something around behind him, without him sensing it, he can't register it when he turns around. To him, it's as though nothing's changed. He'll reach for objects that aren't there any longer, drop plates on the floor where he swears he sees a table, and flirt with damsels in a crowd who are no longer standing there. It takes exhausting levels of focus for him just to comprehend movement in his immediate environment. Let alone changes. I shouldn't have played these sorts of tricks on him when he was younger. In fact, that may be why he has such severe trust issues. But, the experience was interesting and I enjoyed it."

I tipped my head. "Why is his magic like that? Is it because he's a gyne?"

He leaned back in his seat. "No. I've never head of anyone, Fairy or Anti-Fairy, with a condition like it before, and it's my job to know about these things."

"I should say so! Mind and magic interplay is your specialty, I understand."

He peered at me steadily. "There aren't enough documented cases to add such a condition to the books yet. I suppose it must be part of the mutation in his genes. He's special that way."

Brushing at my hair, I forced myself to chuckle. "Well, I suppose it's at least some comfort to know that I'm not the only one to struggle with this problem, hmm?"

Ambrosine looked me directly in the eye. "Actually, Fergus could solve this with flying colours at about your age."

Of course he could.

We went back to work. By the time the first hour was over, I began to feel it. My head physically hurt in strange places around the edges. Or perhaps "hurt" wasn't the correct word, so much as… activated. The electric pulses in my brain were actually pumping, filling me with desire, flinging me onward. I could taste success in the back of my throat, especially under my tongue. All my desires balanced tauntingly within my grasp.

Ambrosine's attention continually wandered to the front door of the house. I kept one ear pointed in that direction as well, awaiting his damefriend's increasingly not-so-probable return. Even though at rest in his pink chair, his wings would occasionally start to beat. These beating periods would last for several seconds at a time, in accordance with his mounting anxiety. When I'd wrestled with a few more shape and scale problems, he ordered me to drop my quill and followed by saying, "Let's take your break now."

"Fine by me. I could use a rest. Oof." I flopped back against the couch, and allowed Mona to run her fingers through my hair. Ambrosine disappeared down the corridor to his bedroom. A moment later he reappeared, now fully dressed. Oh, I saw where I fell on his list of important people to impress, then. Absolutely inconceivable, considering I was as brilliant as I was, and would someday soon be commanding the Anti-Fairy armies from the position of First General. He placed a short white cylinder with a screw-on cap and a pink label on the table in front of me.

"Here. When you return home, you'll want to take this."

"What's it for?"

"For your  _divus_  displacement disorder."

I barely restrained myself from absolutely losing my smoke. Barely.

"They're bottled dominance pheromones, used by many parents of gynes. You smear it on your palms and rub your cheeks with it. It will feel sticky on your hands, but it's necessary. When my son Fergus was a young juvenile, I would slather this on his face in the mornings after his baths to ease his temper." Ambrosine straightened the collar of his plum-purple vest. "It wouldn't work now that he's an adult, of course. They would only upset him, and his pheromones are more developed now anyway. Doubtless by now he has a couple of drones under his wing who would react badly to it. But I was a single parent for a long time, and it made things so much easier. You should spread some on your face once every two days, and when I get back to Wish Fixers, I'll have a box sent to the Blue Castle. It will help you balance your manic periods with your depressive ones."

"Thank you," I managed through locked fangs. I didn't ask about the donor. If he replied "Orin Winkleglint", I would flip my lid. Quite literally, not that there was really anything worth noting inside my forehead chamber. Unfortunately, the glowing white ball that comprised the core of my being, connected to Cosmo Prime's so I might breathe magic through him since he was my hosting counterpart, had never manifested into much of anything. Some of my friends had cores in their heads that played large discs of solidified music, or tracked lost items, or directed them to foreign locations, or grated cheese. Me? I wanted a small, retractable cannon that fired bright laser beams at my foes, just like the one my father's notes told me Anti-Fergus Anti-Whimsifinado had (My, my, Father! How scandalous you were to look!) And what did I get instead? Ha! My forehead dome appeared to be an empty bowl to allow for additional storage space more than anything else. And at my age with my low levels of magic, well, it wasn't a particularly large amount of space. I suppose I could cram a small child in there, but that was about it.

Ambrosine nodded farewell. Then he  _poof_ ed from the room and reappeared, presumably, somewhere out in the streets of Novakiin.

"I can hardly believe the nerve of him," I fumed to Mona before the cloud of white dust had even dispersed. "You know, I'm starting to realise why Fergus chose to run away. We haven't even been here two hours, and I'm already sick of this infuriatingly smug man. Did you hear that blatantly underhanded way he attempted to make a fool of me? Why, if any of my friends tried to pull any manipulations of the sort over my eyes, I think I should dump them on the spot!"

Mona nestled her chin between my twitching ears. "Just jump his jolly hoops, Julius."

"Yes, I suppose that's all we can hope for at this point." Irritably, I let my eyes wander around the keeping room. They fell on the spiral-bound book Ambrosine had left in his chair.

Mona sensed where I was looking. "Don't dare, darling dear."

"Oh, I  _really_  shouldn't look ahead. But on the other hand, I think I'll do so anyway." Abruptly, I stood, walked around the low table, and picked the book up. It burned in my hand with heat and vines. The parchment was magical to prevent anyone from altering the text inside using starpiece magic. If changes were going to be made, they had to be made in pen. And of course, it was also against Da Rules to use magic to alter one's handwriting, so everyone would know if you marked the book up.

I flipped to a page somewhere near the centre that had been marked with a pink divider. It looked as though the first task I was up against next was some sort of trivia test intended to assess basic common knowledge. I read a few questions aloud to Mona, my voice rising higher and higher in pitch the further along I went. "'What token do the sylph traditionally present at a coronation ceremony?' 'What is the antidote for will o' the wisp saliva?' 'Which of these wand types can be used to deflect attacks?' 'In which town can you find Eurydice Flitterglitter's famous painting,  _Genie Lost In The Marketplace_?' Why- why- These test questions are all geared towards Fairy society! Not a single one of these is anything your average Anti-Fairy would know!"

I closed my eyes. My claws curled inward, leaving indents in the bark pages. Ooooh! I couldn't allow Ambrosine to declare he knew my true intelligence based on incredibly biased results. Of course, I also couldn't allow him to find out I looked ahead in his book, in case he decided not to proctor the rest of the test when I had already come so far. Why couldn't he just have a book that didn't discriminate against Anti-Fairies, and save me and my anxiety the trouble? It wasn't fair. It simply wasn't fair.

"Mona, darling," I growled, cutting her off in the middle of a sentence. I didn't care. "Go into the kitchen. And bring me the salt shaker. This parchment came from a magical tree, so I'm going to need salt for this."

"Um. Ultimately, engaging umbrae-"

" _Now."_

She went. I rolled up my sleeves. Now, I didn't typically go about summoning umbrae this way, simply because it was such a waste of so much salt. There were simpler ways to perform such acts- breaking silver or generating static from cat fur, to name a few, and most of the more advanced ancient hexes required all three. Regardless, upon Mona's return I held out my hand without looking at her, and she placed the salt shaker in my palm.

Normally, when allowing an umbra to manifest from the shadows and into the physical world, one would be wise to take into account the karmic balance of the surrounding room. I didn't bat an eye. Instead, I unscrewed the cap of the shaker and poured approximately a thirteenth of the contents into my hand. This I dumped onto the cover of Ambrosine's book in a perfect circle. As soon as the salt was spilled, a tingle passed through the air. My fur stood at its ends. Apparently Ambrosine's keeping room channelled Sky energy, because the umbra that appeared to balance it smelled of smoke and fire.

The umbra materialised on Ambrosine's chair, very bear cub-like with a huge snail shell affixed to its back. I studied it unblinkingly with my eyes and ears. My plan was simple: End the umbra's existence, and use the resulting magical residue in the air to get around the rules of the magical parchment and adjust the writing in Ambrosine's book and replace his questions with ones an Anti-Fairy could answer. You know, "If the current camarilla court, including the High Count and High Countess, all enter the great hall one after another, what colour will the torches be?", "Which item would you NOT adjust in a kitchen to increase the flow of karma?", "How long after lighting a mourning candle must you wait to leave a room?", "On which Plane of Existence is Navy Park?", and rubbish like that.

Instead, when the umbra appeared, it took one look at the perfect circle of salt on the bark cover and immediately put the "lit" in "booklet". The entire thing burst into red flames.

Well, that worked too. I folded my arms behind my neck and watched as the book was rapidly incinerated. Then I flipped the blade from the end of my wand and sliced the umbra down its stomach. It vanished with a wail only an Anti-Fairy could hear. Spinning its magic between my hands, I held my wand over the burning pink chair with both fists clenched around its shaft. It trembled. Magic didn't come easily to me all the time, but I managed to extinguish the flames without experiencing any terrible backlash. It turns out that I did have a speck of decency in me that resisted the urge to set Ambrosine's entire house ablaze. I wasn't quite as evil as I could have been.

"Ha! That about does it, I should say. My problem is solved, and good doctor Ambrosine won't suspect a thing."

Still beaming, I turned around, and jumped out of my skin. Quite literally for a second there, for Anti-Fairies can do those sorts of laughably physics-bending things, I suppose. Mona sat rigidly on the couch. Ambrosine himself stood in the front doorway, cradling his cheek in one hand, and holding his elbow with the other. I hadn't even heard him walk in. Had he ever left? Perhaps this was all a part of the test, and he'd been spying on me. His wings dangled quietly at his back.

"Why are you reinforcing negative stereotypes about your race?" he asked in monotone while I promptly felt the urge to die.

"I- I- I-"

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods. Tarrow, give me strength.

Puffing up my chest, swallowing my tears, I drew myself up to my full, diminutive height. "Dr. Ambrosine Whimsifinado, I insist that you hear me out, lest I call the Supreme Fairy Council on your head. Your so-called intelligence placement test discriminates against Anti-Fairies by testing its takers on knowledge that only children who grew up in Fairy World could possibly know. So, I um…" Here I trailed off. "Intended to alter the second half… so I wouldn't fail the test. And so other Fairy children in the future would have to struggle with it as much as I would have. I accidentally burned it to ashes. There's nothing left."

Ambrosine narrowed his eyes. "That booklet costs over two hundred lyn. And, it had a very expensive inrita poison counterhex embedded in it. It shouldn't be affected by magic. You should be on the floor writhing in incredible pain for trying."

I avoided his gaze. Linking my fingers behind my back, I leaned back on my heels and focused my attention on the ground near one of my bare feet. "Oh, actually, we Anti-Fairies can disable your Fairy hexes. It's quite simple, really. I've spent the last three years learning to summon helpful umbrae as opposed to battling the destructive ones on the field each Friday the 13th. Under your recommendation, as I recall. I'm in training to circulate the barriers of starpiece magic with the karmic magic system."

Ambrosine, quite frankly, was left speechless for almost three seconds. Then he folded his arms, sliding his hands beneath his pits and leaning slightly forward as before. His wingbeats picked up, this time less anxious and more annoyed. "So that's how your people get away with invading our safe homes and stealing from us so easily."

"Pardon?"

"I will be straightforward with you, Julius. You have a bright mind, and if you hadn't been born an anti-fairy, perhaps you could make something of it. But the truth is, your people have ruined you. Your genius is entirely creative. You're severely behind in your knowledge of technical skills, and you lack basic common sense as well as a sense of self-preservation. You can't even communicate through pheromones. Because of this, I can't recommend you be placed in any advanced programs. Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina can force the schools to let you in, fine. That's not my business. But I won't sign any permission forms to allow you to skip years or decades of education. You need to stay at the level you're at."

Quite frankly, I wept. I stood there and I looked at him, my shoulders heaving, and I failed to choke back my sobs. Burning teardrops stained his floor and began to bore holes through the wood.

"The test is over," he said evenly, not a muscle twitching in his face. Not so much as an ear. "You're finished by default. Now the two of you are going to walk with me down to the tram station at the end of the street. I will buy you both passage on the blue line, and you're going to ride it straight back to the border. I'll ask one of the Keepers to escort you back to the Castle. Then you're going home."

I turned and gazed at Mona. She slid off the couch and took my hands in hers. No words were said. I couldn't have processed them if they had been.

I sheathed my wand, and Ambrosine took both our scabbards for safekeeping until we could board the tram. He marched us from his beautiful rich Fairy person house, which didn't look quite so beautiful anymore, and down the painful cloudstone street to the station at the end. He didn't lay so much as a hand on our skin, which was almost worse. I could take being yanked and dragged, but to walk with my head bowed with him behind broke my spirit more than any slap ever had.

This wasn't how I'd pictured it. I'd come here for two major reasons: To prove my absolute intelligence, and to learn where I could find Fergus Whimsifinado, and I'd succeeded in none of those. This was insane; it simply wasn't fair. Not fair at all.

But I had stopped crying. Even with my head held low and tail metaphorically tucked between my legs, I continued to devise a plan. Just one little slight against the Fairy population. What was one little slight against the unfair crimes they'd accused our people of across the centuries since the war?

Ambrosine left Mona and I sitting in chairs at the front of the station, half-hidden behind an enormous glowing plant, while he went to talk to the Keeper on duty standing near the floor-to-ceiling station windows. Confident that we were no longer sitting within range of his magical senses, I slipped from my chair and behind the giant plant. My target was a wingless, red-haired damsel waiting alone on a bench with a small child in her lap who couldn't appear to keep her grubby hands to herself and not the picture frames on the walls. Yes, this dame appeared foolish enough. I smoothed down my hair with both hands, then slid from behind the plant's other side and hurried to greet her. All I could do was hope she believed my urgency, even if I couldn't manage to quicken my pulse higher in so short a time.

"Excuse me- Excuse me- Terribly sorry, please do excuse me." I ran over to her side and collapsed beside her on the bench, mopping my brow. Automatically, she shifted away, pulling her child nearer to her chest. I disregarded the gesture and turned to face her. "Please, can you help me? There's a terrible emergency that I must report, but I fear that the Keeper standing over there won't take me seriously because I'm but an anti-fairy child. Could you report to him on my behalf?"

The young mother looked curious, though hesitant. "Um. It's okay. You don't need to be afraid. Don't spaz out. Everything will be fine. What is it?"

I wrung my hands and glanced back over my shoulder, pretending to be overly concerned. "Are you from around here?"

"My sister lives in this town."

"Well, do you see that drake?" I pointed my claw across the station to where Ambrosine stood, arms folded, relaying instructions to a cross-looking fairy dressed in a pale blue uniform that, being a Water year myself, made my skin crawl beneath my fur. "That's Ambrosine Whimsifinado. My name is Julius Anti-Whimsifinado. I'm his grandson's counterpart, and I've come here to file a report for child abuse. You see, if you ask him whether or not he has a daughter, he'll tell you yes, and say her name is Emery. She's coming back from school today, and he intends to linger about and take her home even though she doesn't belong to him. Her counterpart is my friend, and she's really sick of all the abuse. Anti-Ambrosine has done the most horrible things to her when he comes around on certain nights, if you know what I mean; he really a nasty card."

"You say they honey-locked?" the fairy damsel asked in horror.

"They most certainly did! Of course, if you confront Ambrosine Prime directly, he'll become quite flustered and try to deny it. Go on. Ask him why his wings aren't notched near the distal part of his costas. Wing notching  _is_  the marriage tradition of common fairies, since their subspecies mates for life and typically doesn't remarry, isn't it?"

The fairy damsel pulled her daughter into her lamp and stared across the station. "I don't know. Are you sure about this? It isn't some sort of trick?"

"I'm not lying. It's the truth!" While I couldn't force my eyes to fill with tears on command, I did manage to make my words hitch in my throat. I rubbed my fist across my nose. "Why does no one ever believe me?"

"Hey, hey, don't cry." The mother reached her hand towards my head. Her gesture was surely intended to be comforting, but I flinched anyway. I didn't have to fake that part. She hesitated, and my acting must have convinced her of my sincerity. With a comforting murmur, she stood with her nymph clasped in her arms and hurried across the station. I didn't hear what she said, but all of a sudden the Keeper swung around, and Ambrosine's mouth dropped open. I ducked behind the glowing plant again and scampered back to Mona. We exchanged a slap of hands.

Ambrosine made a valiant effort to protest the accusations of child abuse, but he stuttered horrendously when pressed about his absent wing notches, and he had to be held for questions anyway. Why, I heard something related to his therapy permit being suspended for the next 50,000 years! As the Keeper disarmed him and cuffed his wrists to the post in the floor that held the chain dividing the line to the ticket counter, Ambrosine's wide blue eyes fell on me. The sheer amount of rage that took over his face was indescribable, and I burst into cackles before I could stop myself. Mona and I were escorted back to the Blue Castle via a fully-paid  _poof_ ing by the Keeper, who showed us actual gentle care. I'd never felt better in my life. How's that for karma?

All right. So, perhaps I was a smidgen evil after all. Mm, it did feel good, didn't it? Giving the Fairy race a taste of their own medicine? Who knew being evil would be so much fun!

Of course, I paid a price for my little stunt. I lost my privileges to gain an education whether in Fairy World or at Spellementary School. Ambrosine had no incentive to speak kindly of me, and Mr. Winkleglint and Mr. Thimble were only too happy not to take me back, I'm sure. And of course, Anti-Bryndin was horrified to hear Mona and I had snuck out where "hurt could have come to get us", and Anti-Elina was furious that I would disobey the orders of the High Countess. The first time my mother saw me, she went to deliver a smack across my neck with her staff before Augustus intervened (I'd tagged after him the whole afternoon for precisely that reason). Good show, Augustus.

No matter. I wanted no part in any of it. I shook off their shackles of my own will and turned my attention to more pertinent matters. Namely organising my father's unfinished research, practicing my magic, preparing for my impending heavy training as a homeostasis specialist, and wooing Mona with gifts and inventions whenever I could find the time.

The following spring, the heir to the High Count seat was born. He was a drake with brilliant yellow eyes, and Anti-Bryndin left the Castle one day and came back with the struggling anti-swanee pup in his arms, without any sign of the mother. Mr. Thimble's long-ago comment regarding Anti-Zoe and the grain silo haunted me still, but I hadn't looked into it, even though I wanted to just to prove the Fairy's biases against us wrong.

"His name is Winslow," Anti-Bryndin gushed to me when we pups all gathered around to meet our new addition to the bottom creche. "See his small horns. Anti-Elina and I will take him now to present him before Twis at the Soil Temple, and then we will come to have a carving made for him in the hallway."

"Wasting no time with the statues," I observed, thoroughly amused. "You realise that many Anti-Fairies stay in their exoskeletons for merely a month before their counterpart sheds it off. They are linked, you know. You'll be recommissioning a new statue almost immediately."

Anti-Bryndin didn't seem to mind, and lifted Winslow over his head. "But he is my heir, and my prince, and my son. I love him. See his small horns, how nice they are."

" _Sina kova m_ _injina d'misai rija_ _,_ " Winslow cooed in a language only vaguely familiar to me, stretching down his hands to touch his father's cheeks. I suppose he inherited much of his personality profile, native tongue included, from Anti-Bryndin. The most elaborate  _canetis_  rings I had ever borne witness to dangled at his ears like wind chimes, decorated in ribbons and beads.

"Ah,  _sina kova m_ _injina d'lai rija_ _kastarc_ _autu!_ " He planted kisses all along Winslow's face. Watching him dote over his newborn, Mona and I couldn't help but chuckle, and reached for one another's hands. Someday that would be me showing my firstborn child off to the little pups. Me, with the mother herself beaming at my side. Eight pups. I wanted eight by the time I was done. Or maybe nine. And I'd raise them all forever.

I'd taken one day for myself upon returning to the castle, and then quite quickly went to work. Anti-Elina grounded me in punishment for running away, and replaced the ropes in my wings with metal chains that slowed my movements and weighed me down, especially on my right side. Those I couldn't cut with even an enchanted knife, and everyone could hear me dragging myself about from three corridors away. They were so heavy, I was sentenced to sleep on the lowest and sturdiest boughs of the array tree in the creche room, while all my friends gathered and whispered high above me.

Fine. My pride was dented, but not injured irreversibly. I would live. I requested Anti-Bryndin's permission to claim my father's storeroom as my own. Following his approval, I carved it out to be a private study and work space. There weren't any windows. The study had been tucked away on the third floor of the castle, in one of the rear corridors. I wouldn't be getting many visitors, and would spend much of my foreseeable childhood and adolescence in solitude. This I accepted without hesitation or concern despite the regrettable loneliness, for that was the price I was willing to pay if it meant I could unlock the secrets to biological children of my own with a partner I chose myself someday.

It wasn't a large room, but it was a cluttered one, at first. That would have to be changed. I torched all my father's notes that I decided I didn't need, and organised everything else alphabetically according to the first word on the page. While Mona and I scavenged the castle for candles, furniture, and decor, I sent Ashley to make constant runs to the public library for everything I imagined may help me in cracking the secrets of the Anti-Fairy reproductive system.

Once he brought in the first batch of scrolls, I dismissed he and Mona from the room and didn't sleep for a week. Useless. Useless. Useless. Some of the information led me down false trails, and others brimmed with jargon too complicated for even me to understand. I ordered Ashley to fetch the most massive dictionary he could borrow, and I read the whole thing in three days' time and never forgot a word of it. I requested that Mona set all my meals on a tray outside the door. The only reason I got away with missing supper in the Great Hall so often, I think, was Anti-Elina's fury at my rebelliousness. That and, come spring, Anti-Bryndin's occupation with baby Winslow. A blessing to my cause. Tiny footnotes to the name of science.

I rented out the same scrolls just in case there was something, somewhere, somehow, that I had misrecalled. Perhaps another read with fresh eyes would jar something in my brain that I had skipped over the first time around. I re-rented them again, and ran up fines when I kept them too long, and made copies, and copies of copies just because I could, and stayed in my study hour after hour until I spent more of my sleeping nights there than at roost. Realising this, I took a break from my project to attend a few magic lessons that someone or other on the camarilla was offering that week. Yes. Good. Armed with my newfound knowledge, I returned to my study and  _foop_ ed up a roost, metal wall netting to climb up to it, a chamber pot in the corner, and sometimes never left the embrace of those four walls for days.

On occasion, my excitement did lose its rapid-fire luster. Over the years, I learned to anticipate the looming downfalls in my energy levels and mood. Once, when I felt one of these periods coming on, I set aside my main project and began another. Ambrosine had diagnosed me with  _divus_  displacement disorder, also known shorthand as "D3". Yet when I questioned the members of the camarilla court about it, they all became very uncomfortable, and no one could give me any straight answers. Anti-Bryndin mentioned pheromones, but that was the most I was able to draw out of him.

Speaking of which, I hadn't touched the bottle of dominance pheromones which Ambrosine had given me in place of actually useful herbal remedies that day. Having decided that they were tainted with hate towards my people, and that I didn't want to rub them across my face and negate my periods of high energy anyway, I didn't see the benefit in taking them. Why should I? Despite my chained wings, my weeks of elation were the only times I actually felt as though I could fly. Who was Ambrosine to steal those away from me as he'd stolen my educational opportunities? At the very least, if I absolutely  _had_  to, I decided I would compromise only for bottled pheromones that came from Fergus Whimsifinado. No other gynes mattered to me. I was no disloyal summer soldier.

Nothing. I crumpled up the library scroll and hurled it at my wastebasket before flopping face-first on the floor for the following six hours. Seemingly, D3 did not exist in Anti-Fairy society. No Anti-Fairy report said a word about it. If they had, I would know. The Fairies must have invented my taboo condition as yet another excuse to call my people crazy. I sneered at the thought and, too drained to scale my wall netting to my roost, surrendered to a restless few weeks of sleep on the ground.

Ring me up in another billion years once an  _Anti-Fairy_  mood specialist starts discussing my alleged disorder, and then perhaps I'll cock an ear, hmm? But as far as I was concerned, there existed no such thing.


	11. Spirited Forth

_In which Julius deepens his understanding of his own identity, and begins to learn Anti-Bryndin's native tongue of Vatajasa_

* * *

The entire camarilla court was still in the corridor. I crouched down in front of my study door, pressing my ear against the gap. My thin tail, always poking out from my pants when I knew I was alone, waved above me.

"How did this happen?" Anti-Autumn exploded. "They're not even a decade old. Why are they acting like that? Have they been sneaking out to Fairy World for years before this too?"

Anti-Irica snapped, "This all comes full circle back to you, Anti-Alin. 'Oh, they cut off their canetis rings, let's tie their wings instead of replacing them'. Now you've left them unbalanced for the rest of their life.  _Thanks_."

"Hey, hey, it ain't the li'l Skippy Junior's fault," Anti-Richard soothed, his wings rustling as he flew from one end of the hallway to the other. "Why, why, hey! It's supposed to be caught in a dead sprint running through a family line, ain't it? Sure it is! And Julius' got a smasher of a brother, ain't that right? He's picture perfect! He's a superstar, you get? You get."

"Augustus doesn't have it," muttered Anti-Blaze. "And if Anti-Florensa does, she's done a smoofing fine job of keeping it under wraps. They must have gotten it from their father. Anti-Karina, are you finished 'thinking' yet?"

"I don't know what to say to them! I'm just a historian. I'm not really qualified for this kind of work."

Anti-Praxis sighed. I could hear his bare foot tapping against the ground. "Well, unless anyone thinks they can produce another actual, living, full-fledged Anti-Fairy afflicted with their condition in the next ten minutes, you're the best option we have."

Brief pause.

"Just go in there with confidence and a smile," Anti-Tuck urged. "Make them feel special. Think about everything you want to say before you say it, and cast it in the best possible light. Don't hurt their feelings. They're a sensitive child."

"I'll try."

Wingbeats. I jumped to my feet and backed away from the door. I tucked my tail beneath my tunic again. Then I settled back in my desk chair, hands knotted in my lap, just as the door opened. Anti-Karina, holder of the Seat of Soil on Anti-Elina's half of the court, floated in. She shut the door behind her, but I knew the rest of the camarilla could hear us. Of course they could hear us. Still, she caught my eye and smiled as though I were her only concern.

"Good morning, Julius."

"Why yes, it is quite the scrumptious morning, isn't it, Anti-Karina?"

Once we had wrapped up the opening small talk and I (politely) questioned the purpose of this meeting she'd requested with me, to my surprise, she began by saying, "We think there's a restless nature spirit trapped inside you, Julius. Most probably, a Fire one. Perhaps a baby."

"Is there?"

She nodded slightly. "You understand how two nature spirits come together as one to create the weather and change the seasons, don't you? And how when they come apart, the lesser spirit immediately gives birth to a baby that embodies the bond and the emotions they shared?"

"Yes? What's your point, darling?"

"It's possible that your particles ended up bonding with those of a newborn nature spirit when you were only lifesmoke. After all, you were in that state far longer than most pups, imprisoned by anti-cherubs until it was almost too late for you. You were there inside the Anti-Eros tower as it was burning. It would be an easy mistake."

The cold seeped into my cheeks. I squeezed my knees. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"I know, and I'm not blaming you at all," Anti-Karina assured me. She rested her hand on my shoulder. "But this spirit seems to be affecting your mind. We believe it to be a Fire spirit due to the fluctuations in your energy levels. After all, Saturn is also known as the spirit of Energy. Bonding with a baby spirit like this isn't a common predicament, but I assure you, the camarilla and everyone else in the Castle will assist you in working and growing with her as best as we can."

I shifted on my tail end. "Couldn't we possibly, um, remove… her?"

"Oh, sweetie." Her fingers stroked my hair. "No, we can't. But I hope you don't want to. She's part of you now. All you can do is learn to live with her."

"She balances me?"

"She balances you."

"Then that's quite all right, I suppose."

Anti-Karina continued smiling. "Do you understand what this means, Julius?"

"I'm not certain I do. Could you elaborate?"

"What do you know of Saturn's alternate forms?"

I glanced towards Anti-Robin's carved blessing tokens lining their usual shelf on my study wall, across from my desk. "His sacred animal, the horned lizard?"

"No, I mean his alternate selves."

"His seasonal forms?" Saturn's spring form was one of antsyness and immaturity. His summer form was passionate and powerful, his autumn form determined and show-offy, and his winter form wisened and dignified.

Anti-Karina cleared her throat. "I'm talking about when nature spirits take each other's favours. For example, Anti-Bryndin currently holds Winni's favour: The beryl button on his scarf. Anti-Elina holds Thurmondo's favour: the jade circlet on her head. But what happens when both parties involved in a favour bond are nature spirits?"

"Let me remember. When Saturn takes Sunnie's favour, his appearance doesn't particularly change, but he takes on the persona of the Prince of Stone. Although he remains Saturn at heart with most of his personality intact, he gains the ability to draw upon Sunnie's mastery: Water, Focus, tact, introspection, education, logic, tranquility, and the like. It is then Saturn, acting as the Prince of Stone, who has the authority to distribute blessings in Sunnie's name, and accept Sunnie's offerings as though they were his own. On rare occasion, their roles can be reversed, and Sunnie can take Saturn's favour. However, that almost never, never happens, because Saturn is more dominant. Therefore it's his right and fate to play the host." Nodding, I began to count off on my claws. "When Saturn wears Munn's favour, he becomes the Prince of Lightning. With Twis he's the Prince of Ash, with Winni the Prince of Lava, and Thurmondo the Prince of Nitrogen. And of course, Dayfry ever represents neutrality and balance. He never accepts his brothers' favours in modern times, so we have no record of what Princes would come to light then."

"That's right." Anti-Karina drew a few lines on her leg with her fingertip. "And when two bonded spirits come apart, the child that results from that union takes on the characteristics of that bond. For example, Beira, the spirit of winter, was born of Sunnie and Twis after they disengaged from being the Prince of Mud. What does the bond between Sunnie and Twis represent?"

I rubbed behind my neck. "Although Dayfry is the zodiac spirit of Love, we acknowledge that there are seven types of love. Dayfry himself embodies  _Philia_ , the love for everyone as though we were all his brothers and sisters. Sunnie embodies  _Agape_ , or selfless and unconditional love, and Twis embodies  _Pragma_ , or long-lasting companionate love. Their relationship is one of calmness, tenderness, maturity, and friendly affection. That's why we say they have a yellow bond, and believe that those born in the Water and Soil years are naturally compatible. That's the type of love Mona and I are striving towards. Though privately, I would prefer a little more  _Eros_  and  _Ludus_  in my future that one might expect from our bond, if you know what I mean."

"Good. Now-"

"Saturn embodies  _Eros_ , or passionate and sexual love, and Munn embodies  _Ludus_ , or playful and lighthearted love. Their relationship is one of desire and flirtation. Lastly, Winni embodies  _Philautia_ , care for oneself to ensure one is physically and emotionally prepared to provide for the needs of their partners. Thurmondo embodies  _Storge_ , or the love that grants one forgiveness, patience, and assists one in fulfilling their expected duties, such as when facing a reluctant honey-lock. If I do recall." Of course I did. Anti-Fairies never forget anything.

"-Well. Thank you for summarising, Julius."

"My pleasure, Anti-Karina."

She paused for a moment to scratch her head, and apparently regather her thoughts. "Yes. Because your energy levels come and go so quickly, and strike hard in both directions when they do, my prediction is that when you were born, your particles became entangled with those of a baby lightning spirit."

I tipped my head. "That would make sense. Saturn and Munn are creatures of explosive passion, so lightning spirits do tend to be quite common in the air."

Anti-Karina nodded. "Let us try to communicate with her. Perhaps she'll tell us her name."

"You want to speak with the spirit inside me?"

"It's worth a try."

"All right," I said slowly. I watched Anti-Karina sit on the floor, folding her legs. I sat down across from her and allowed her to take the lead. She took my hands in hers. We closed our eyes. Anti-Karina leaned in, and I felt her mind penetrate my own like a spear.

I jerked back at once, gasping in the process. Anti-Karina flicked back her ears. "Is something the matter?"

"I- Um-" I fanned my hand at my face, knowing it was pointless, as the blood from my core was flowing down into my cheeks anyway. "I didn't realise we were mind-melding. It's, um, my first time. A-and it's just such an intimate, private experience, you know? Feeling another person's mind pushing inside yours that way? My apologies, darling. Do try it again. I won't squirm. I'll be patient and good. You'll see. Right now. I can and I will."

She began the mind-meld again, forcing her cold mental energy to weave between the wrinkles of my brain and fan out like the gentle strands in a cobweb. She probed through several places in my memories, prowling as though on the hunt. When I felt her combing through my memories of the day Mona and I were betrothed, I began to feel as though I were peeling onions. Fortunately, she moved on before she could learn too much.

"I believe the young lightning spirit inside you is trying to tell us that her name is Clarice," Anti-Karina announced after a few moments of silence had gone by. She pulled the piercing spike of her mental energy away from my head. The tingling sensation in the forefront of my mind lightened up. The green glow around her hands faded into nothingness.

I wasn't sure precisely where she picked the name "Clarice" up from, as I didn't recall ever hearing it before in my life. Yet when I whispered the name to myself, it tasted pleasant on my tongue. "Well, then. I'm honoured to host Clarice's spirit alongside my own. I do hope she guides me well."

The camarilla were all still waiting outside my door when Anti-Karina opened it, even though they pretended that they weren't. "We had a good talk," she told them, patting my shoulder, "and I think they feel they have a much better understanding about themselves and the whole thing. Don't you, Julius?"

"'He,'" I corrected, cautious and confused. "I'm a drake."

Anti-Karina glanced at the ceiling. "Yes, well… You have two spirits inside your body. Now that we're aware of it, it's appropriate to call you 'they.' That's what High Count Anti-Kahnii did eons ago when the Anti-Fairies first became an organized society. We continue such a practice today."

Oh. Well, if that was our people's cultural tradition, who was I to argue? I mean, it wasn't a big deal. I didn't mind if other Anti-Fairies wanted to call me "they." In fact, it was sort of a flattering relief. So it turned out that Ambrosine was wrong after all! I wasn't a drone Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body, and I didn't require any silly dominance pheromones. My condition must be natural and acceptable in the eyes of the spirits, because _Anti-Fairies_  had a word for me! I wasn't crazy! I just had a nature spirit who accidentally got tangled up inside my brain!

"Hello, Clarice," I whispered when I was left alone. "It's the two of us now."

There was no response. Was there supposed to be? I didn't feel noticeably different or special. Maybe that just meant Clarice had silently been with me my entire life.

Mona, Ashley, and Caden threw a small celebration in the courtyard for me after the reveal. Well, Caden did all the organising, and created most of the decorations, and baked the bread we ate. But Mona and Ashley did show up. Still, I ensured that he received the biggest, most gracious hug. What a joy, to have a friend who cared so much about me, even though he was neither my cousin nor my betrothed!

I progressed. My research concerning the Anti-Fairy reproductive system was exhilarating and exhausting simultaneously. I had approximately six billion years of recorded history to sift through in the span of only one lifetime. Well, more like five billion, really, seeing as that's when the ancient Anti-Fairy ancestor race, the Solitary Fae, began to take form. Few primary source documents had survived from that time period. The ones that had needed to be sent for specifically, and carried in by the annual trade ships from the massive underground library system on Planet Yugopotamia. One piece I was after eluded me for three years entirely before the workers there managed to locate it in their cluttered bins. Another required an army of soldiers to invade and blow up two planets before they found a legible copy. Such are the lengths one must be willing to go in pursuit of scientific discovery.

And on top of that, the personality profile I'd been born with only knew how to read Snobbish. Thousands upon thousands of texts were written in the original Anti-Fairy language, Vatajasa, and others in the old Fairy tongue, Gaideliac. While I knew they spoke Vatajasa predominantly in the Far West Region, and the Maroon Robe himself was practically always a native speaker as a result, the only Anti-Fairies I knew in the Castle who had enough mastery of the language to unravel ancient texts with me were Anti-Bryndin and my own mum. Of course, neither of those options appealed to me. Sigh.

But I was nothing if not a determined child. I decided to approach the less intimidating potential teacher first. One day while passing Anti-Bryndin in the corridor as he cooed over Winslow in his arms, I greeted him with, _"Ben'argenta, Vürstlik_ Anti-Bryndin."

So delighted was he with my seemingly overnight fluency in his native tongue, he stopped right there, grabbed my shoulder, and launched immediately into a spiel about Anti-Fairy culture and history. All in a language I didn't understand more than a few basic words of, mind you. It took me upwards of an hour to disentangle myself from his attention. In retrospect, not my most well-thought-out idea.

Option 2. I found my mother in the courtyard one day, outfitted in a dirty purple tunic, overseeing several young juveniles who were practicing their combat techniques on a small white demon. Her familiar staff stood at her side. I approached her at an angle, not wanting to startle her, and bit my lip.

"Mum?"

Her ears twitched in my direction, though her eyes remained locked on the anti-fairies in the sandpit. "What do you want, Julius? I'm working right now."

"Can… can you teach me some Vatajasa?"

My mum turned her head. She flicked her ears left, then right. Then at me again. "This is a trick. Who put you up to this?"

I braced myself for the impending blow, arms flying up to block my face. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bother you! I just want to know some, a-and no one speaks it as good as you do except Anti-Bryndin, and I d-didn't want to bother him. I'm sorry! I'll go! Please don't be mad!"

Mum looked at the staff in her hand, then at me. She reached behind her and set the staff on the ground. "No. I'm not mad. Julius, you don't have to be scared of me. You know Mummy only smacks you and your brother around to shake the bad karma away, don't you?"

"Y-yes? I get it. I know my f-f-frequent good behaviour attracts bad k-karma, but…" I didn't want to open my eyes any more than I had to. "I'm sorry I b-bothered you. I know you h-hate me."

She crouched to my level, balancing on her toes. Her hand came up to cup my face. I flinched, but didn't try to run, as she traced her fingers up my cheek and through my hair. "Don't be scared, Julius. Mummy won't hate you forever. She wants to love you as soon as you give up that smokeforsaken sass and learn respect and obedience like a proper anti-fairy. Mummy wants to help you so much. She just has… very hard days sometimes. It's because she was so good as a child. Now she has to be balanced. She doesn't want you to grow up to have very hard days like her, so she wants to crush the impulsiveness out of you before it consumes your soul. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Mum."

"Don't shake so much. You'll lose your fur that way."

"I'm t-t-trying. I'm s-sorry." I flapped my hand at my face, trying to fan away my tears. They sizzled on my cheeks. My crown floated lower than ever between my ears, defending my vulnerable head and ready to strike with its spikes at any threat. My mother watched me for a few seconds, then turned her attention to the anti-fairies standing with the felled demon in the sandpit. They jumped and fumbled when she caught them staring.

"Practice is over for the day. You're all showing marked improvement since last week. Get out of here."

The scufflers exchanged disbelieving looks. One tightened his hand around his wand. "Uh… Thank you, Dame Anti-Florensa. I'm glad we impressed you."

"Wh-what's going on?" I asked, tightening my arms around my stomach.

"What's going on? Good smoke, are you deaf? I'm going to teach you some Vatajasa now. That's what's going on. Honestly, do I need to strangle your little neck before you pay attention to me?"

"Oh. Thank you?" I watched nervously as my mum settled in the prickly yellow grass. Mum looked at me, then patted her knee.

I didn't want to. I really didn't. But I settled down in her lap anyway and looked up into her face for what felt like the first time in years.

"How did you get your horrid burn scars, Mother?" I asked without thinking. No one else would tell me and it seemed taboo to even acknowledge them, so I never had. I considered her fiery blue eyes and towering curls to be her more noticeable features anyway, especially when we were indoors and the dark blotches on her face blended with the shadows. When she shot me a sharp look, I shrugged. "Anti-Bryndin always says you're the greatest warrior in the whole cloudlands. You honour Saturn in his Temple every Saturday. Why did he let you get hit in a fight?"

She placed her fingertips to the left side of her face, tracing out the purple-black mess that splattered her skin like a cobweb flung across a lily pad. "Oh, that. It wasn't Saturn's fault. It was mine. I made a foolish mistake."

"But you're the best."

"Of course I am. I was tournament champion at the Festival of Energy so many times that everyone lost count and the finest warriors gave up competing against me to spare their pride… Julius, you know Mummy loves her position as Anti-Bryndin's personal guardian."

"Yes, Mum." I snuggled up against her chest. Her furry legs were so much softer than the gritty cinders and dry grass. "You practice close combat fighting with your staff all the time. Not even the Fairies can beat you, and Fairy gynes are masters of close combat!"

"That was the idea. I once held a place on the camarilla court, you know."

"Did you? I never knew that. You've never told me before, and Augustus never said either. It really seems as though that would have come up in conversation before now."

"Shh. It was the year your brother was born that I kiff-tied with Saturn. How can you desire a mortal partner once you've known a nature spirit's touch? Something you, perhaps, may grow to understand." Her fingers stroked my hair again, rubbing fuzzy blue tufts - so unlike her shiny black ones - between her claws. "Anti-Bryndin and I sang together almost every night back then. And when we did, Winni and Saturn themselves came together on Plane 23, and Saturn took his favour and became the Prince of Lava. Lava itself flowed from the mountains every evening and filled that bit of rocky outcroppings on the northern border that you know as the lake. I loved my life for nearly 40,000 straight years, Julius. Even my bad days weren't so hard then."

Again, Mum touched the cheek that had never quite healed. "But when your father got me pregnant with you, suddenly everything I cherished - my strength, my skill, my beauty, my agility, my speed - it was ripped away from me. Oh, I tried. I pushed myself to my limits, trying to prove to everyone that being pregnant didn't make me weak."

"You were the best," I reminded her. "Logically, it's impossible to regress to the point where-"

"Julius." Mum rapped her knuckles on the back of my head. "At least  _try_  to keep it in your mouth when I'm talking. See, this is why you cause so many problems. I am your elder, and in social situations, you are to defer to me."

"Sorry. I'll be quiet. I won't say anything else anymore. Not a word. I'm sorry. I really am. Sorry."

She sniffed. "We were attending a conference in Fairy World when it all started to go wrong. Some Fairies got a mite too rowdy and pinned us in the corner. Anti-Bryndin needed me. I took a hit I shouldn't have tried to stop." Her knees tightened around mine. "I lost my arm that day, Julius. From the shoulder down. Going to smoke and regenerating wasn't an option. Not when I was pregnant. Not with that awful court case, the Xero Act, about how Anti-Fairies have no right to prevent the bearing of children if that is what their counterparts choose to do. I thought I'd miscarried you anyway. You stopped moving in my pouch for some time."

"Did I?" Was  _that_ , perhaps, the time I had bonded with Clarice? Had I in fact technically died?

"Of course you squirmed. You were a regular little nuisance even back then." She looked away. "And it was especially irritating because before that day, you were always a wriggler. Never could sit still any more than a crockeroo with a tail full of stinger ants. You just had to go and stop being predictable without any notice, didn't you? That's so like you."

"Sorry, Mum."

"I should hope you are." Mum sighed through her nostrils. She tilted back her head, searching the dim red sky for traces of stars, perhaps. "Saturn broke his tie with me that night. I'd been stabbed physically in the back a hundred times before, but this was worse than all of those experiences combined. My prince no longer wanted me. Not as his medium to the mortal realms. Not to represent him on the zodiac. Nothing. After we argued, he insisted that I challenge him to win back his respect."

My eyes widened. "Challenge  _him_? And- and while you were highly pregnant with me?"

"It wasn't unreasonable," she sniffed. "After all, I was the best. Don't you dare go forgetting that."

"Of course you were. My apologies, Mum. I meant no disrespect."

"Well. I lost that fight. Saturn is a proud warrior, and he has no interest in playing for the losing team. He left me with these burns, and decided he wanted nothing to do with me ever again."

"Just like that?"

"Yes, like that. Weren't you listening? Hmph. Bratty pups these days." Mum lifted me beneath the arms until our foreheads were nearly brushing. She gazed into my eyes, hers so piercing blue they blinded me. Then she set me down on her knee again. "I stayed with my sister Anti-Joanie in the Far West Region until you were born. You never came. I waited. I  _needed_  you, needed  _someone_  to need me, but you couldn't even be bothered to show up on time. Punctuality is a virtue."

"I'm sorry. I tried. The anti-cherubs got me."

"That's no excuse."

"Sorry."

"And upon my return to the Blue Castle, I learned I'd already been replaced on the camarilla behind my back. Saturn made a show of selecting a new medium immediately. I've heard that Anti-Tuck was the very first to visit the Fire Temple's echo chamber following my… resignation. He was but a stranger to us, and didn't even hold a place on the court. He came from a young bachelor colony and had nothing to his name. Yet Saturn claimed him nonetheless. Anti-Bryndin couldn't refuse him." Her eyes trailed to mine. She tilted her head. "It's still strange, you know. Even now, I feel so naked without Saturn's warmth beneath my skin."

"If Saturn offered you his favour and the chance to be reinstated on the camarilla court, do you think you would take it?"

"What a stupid question. In a wingbeat. I was the best."

I looked at the interlaced fingers in my lap. "You sound like you loved him. Loved him more than even my father."

"Your  _sire_  was a disappointment. Where was he when I cried out for support all those aching nights with a heavy belly nearly yanking me from my roost? Sure, he visited me every other week or so, bearing all manner of elegant foods, but what should I care for that when convincing him to stay any longer than lunch required begging on my knees? Saturn, Anti-Bryndin, and my fellow members of the camarilla were all I had during those days. Even when no one else could be there for me, Saturn was. Julius, do you know what everyone thinks is wrong with me?"

"Is there something wrong with you?" I asked innocently.

She knocked again on my head. "The 'noble' and 'proper' camarilla consider it taboo for a medium to allow the nature spirit they host to interact so directly with the mortal world in modern times. But I couldn't help it. As my pregnancy symptoms became more severe, I allowed Saturn to push his consciousness to the forefront of my mind, and take my control away from me. Never much at first. Just here and there. But when you're like me, you forget to consider the consequences sometimes. I grew desperate. I let him in, day after day after day until I spent more time engulfed in blackness than in the real world. I wasn't even there when Augustus was born."

My wings shivered at the thought. "Oh."

"Don't ever do that," she snapped at me, clenching her claws into my shoulders. I squeaked as Mum shoved her nose against mine. "You're going to grow up to be Sunnie's medium, and let him experience the mortal realm through you until he wreaks enough havoc to destroy us all. Isn't that right?"

"No, Mum! Never!"

"Liar!" She shook me back and forth until my eyes were dizzy. "You're a filthy little liar, just like that worthless scum who sired you! I knew you couldn't be trusted!"

"No, Mum! I promise! I'll never let Sunnie control my body if I ever kiff-tie with him! Never, ever, ever! I promise!"

Her teeth tightened. "You'll leave me too, just like he did. Your father showed up the night he slipped your tiny smokeless body from his pouch into mine. He did his duty. And he spent every day until he died fawning over that goody-goody brother of yours instead of speaking to either of us with the attention we rightfully deserved. His memory doesn't deserve half the respect Augustus showers him with."

"I'm s-s-sorry."

Mum pushed me off her knee and into the grass. "You should be. If it weren't for that pregnancy, I'd be respected as more than a- a-  _foot soldier_  who happens to speak the High Count's native tongue. Don't you try to leave me too, Julius. No matter where you run, I'll find you if you do, and you'll be sorry."

"Y-yes, Mummy. You're my family, and I love you, and I'll always be here for you. E-even during your hard days."

"Good. You'd better be."

I wiped my cheek with the back of my wrist. "Wh-what do you think Papa was reincarnated into? He was born in the Year of Breath. Augustus says that maybe instead of coming back right away, he- he took the patient path and is holding out for one of his sons to have a Breath year pup, so he'd come back as one of them, if one of our other ancestors hasn't already laid claim to the position. Th-that's what Augustus told me."

"Augustus is a liar too. Your father doesn't have the patience to twiddle his thumbs until you're an adult. Not that it even matters, seeing as you and your brother are both sterile. A fitting end to Anti-Robin's worthless genepool. Good riddance, I say."

That hurt. She didn't notice.

"Now, let's get to work on learning Vatajasa."

We began with simple things, like greetings and common verbs. After we'd done a few conjugations together without me stuttering like my brother, I finally worked up the courage to ask, "What does  _septmeth_  mean?"

Her eyes hardened into diamonds. "Where did you hear that word?"

"I made it up," I lied.

Mum swatted the back of my head. "Nonsense! You've been sticking your father's enormous nose where it doesn't belong again. Whatever are we going to do with you? You don't need to know those sorts of advanced words, Julius. You wouldn't have a use for them. All of that research nonsense is done in Snobbish these days. I'm not going to waste my valuable time teaching you how to say things in Vatajasa that will never come up in realistic conversation."

"But-"

"I'll give you some conversation books to study. Now, conjugate  _sina_  with me."

So much for my plan to translate those research scrolls. Anyway, I didn't  _want_  to halt my studies to master either Vatajasa or the dead-outside-the-Daoist-rituals Gaideliac language right now. I thought that I could afford to at first, but to my crushing disappointment, I found that I couldn't commit the Vatajasa words I read to memory. They were too foreign, too confusing, and they slipped between my fingers like rain. Apparently, I had to actually understand what I was reading for it to stick in my mind. It was hard to want to do that when I still had piles of perfectly simple Snobbish documents to comb through on my desk.

I practiced with Mum's conversation books on occasion anyway, realising that when I grew up, I could perhaps spend some time in the Far West Region, and locate an intellectual fellow there who could teach me the words I needed to translate the old scrolls. It would certainly help to become fluent. When my energy levels were highest, I devoured every simple Vatajasa lesson Mum saw fit to give me.

And to my surprise, I discovered, my mother's company wasn't entirely unpleasant. Certainly, steps had to be taken and sacrifices made in order to remain on her less intense side, but she embodied both brawn and brains. Even if it was with some sarcasm or annoyance, she always answered my questions about any subject honestly when I sought her out. Her scathing love was tough and bitter, but it endured. I valued that more than the empty promises I often received from Augustus any day.

When I was 16, a certain Zvezda O'Scarlett died of salt overexposure after plummetting from the cloudlands and into Atlantis Ocean. The skin of Seelie Courters is particularly sensitive to such things, and mermaids allegedly reported the news. O'Scarlett had been mayor of Esterale, an old-fashioned town in Fairy World's Lower West Region, since before even Anti-Bryndin was born. We at the Blue Castle broke into a flurry of activity the moment word of his counterpart's passing reached us courtesy of the Anti-Highperch colony. Every Anti-Fairy in the universe knew Esterale. While the town itself wasn't much to behold, or so I'd heard, it did feature one crucial centrepiece of interest to our people: Beira's temple.

Beira was a minor nature spirit, eldest daughter of Sunnie and Twis. Eldest of all the minor spirits, as a matter of fact. As the stories went, Mother Nature had refused to allow Beira command over the soil of any planet, so studious Sunnie and determined Twis encouraged their daughter to strike a deal with the ancient spirit bears and devise the cloudlands of dust, smoke, and mist instead. It was because of her that we had the cloudland colonies and the rich magical plant life that we did to this day. My people had happily lived, married, raised families, and died in Esterale not all that long ago. We'd been forced to abandon the settlement during the war, leaving Beira's temple to fall into uncaring Fairy hands. Who knew what its interior looked like now.

As with all the minor spirits, Beira's favours could manifest only as simple beaded necklaces, nothing near as elaborate as the tokens many in the camarilla wore. Unfortunately, beaded necklaces were easy for anyone with half a speck of magic to fake. These days, no one knew for certain whether Beira had taken any living mediums, or whether she condemned the practice at this time and chose to roam the cosmos unbound by our pesky mortal needs. There were always rumors and conspiracy theories floating around Anti-Fairy World about so-and-so minor spirit kiff-tying with so-and-so commoner, and our nation as a whole had largely given up trying to ascertain if any such claims were true.

Making contact with Beira wasn't the important part of the matter. She was but a minor spirit, and it wasn't as though we required her direct influence in our daily matters (although increasing the landscape with additional clouds and floating rocks would never be frowned upon by any Fae). This was simply about reclaiming a precious piece of our stolen history.

Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina decided which one of them would make appeals to Esterale over a quick game of casting beads while in the reading den, and Anti-Bryndin groaned good-naturedly when the green beads on the floor far outnumbered the yellow ones. After embracing his wife in a tight hug and then stepping back, he nodded to my mother, who floated near my chair. "Take Anti-Florensa and be safe."

Anti-Elina and my mother stiffened at the same time. They glanced at one another sideways in that way you do when one of you is High Countess and the High Count's favoured wife, and the other, despite the legalities of marriage, considers herself only a concubine. Even with my nose absorbed in a pile of scrolls I hadn't bothered to cart up three flights of stairs to my study, I spotted the key to breaking the tension. My ears snapped up.

"May I go too?"

"You want to go?" Anti-Elina asked in some surprise. I realised then that she'd put on her finest diplomat dress, with a wide silver stripe down the centre of the blue fabric, feathery puffs fluttering about her shoulders, and black gloves wrapping around her hands. Her black boots went up to her knees, accented in silver dashes wherever possible.

Scrambling to mark my place and shove the heap of papers aside, I blurted, "I want to see where Nana Anti-Miranda used to live before she came to the Blue Castle."

Drumming her claws against her elbows, my mum tilted back her head. "They  _are_ over 30 years old now. Perhaps it would be good for them. After all, it's my family that had ties to Esterale before the war."

I opened my mouth, then shut it again without correcting her. Anti-Elina made exactly the same motion. And thus, our travelling party was formed.

We kept our group small so as not to incite unnecessary Fairy hostilities. I was no one of particular importance, and so remained in my usual plain blue tunic, although my mum made an actual effort to put on her black and orange martial warrior garb instead of the sloppy purple shirt and shorts that she typically floated around the Castle in. As we sat inside the customs building at the border to await the confirmation of our passports, Anti-Elina hunched on the bench beside me, holding her hands over her face. Her fingers caressed the green circlet of metal leaves around her forehead. "Please, oh please, let them grant us this one trivial building."

"I haven't been across the border since I was eight," I said, resisting the urge to kick my feet. I leaned forward, holding my knees. My tail squirmed beneath my clothes, craving the same freedom I did. "I've visited a hive estate and a small wealthy community in Fairy World before now. What is Esterale like?"

Anti-Elina ignored me and continued muttering into her gloves. After a moment of silence, my mum said, "You'll see it when we get there in just a matter of minutes. Keep quiet. And stop wiggling around."

So I did, but flexed my claws. Our passports were approved. Four Keepers dressed in the usual pale blue uniforms arrived to escort us. It was under their discretion that we  _poof_ ed across the Lower West Region, and reformed along the outskirts of the ramshackle town. Deep crimson peaks leered above us. Two young redcaps and a brownie crouched behind some nearby puffs of cloud, whispering together as we gathered ourselves and brushed swirls of smoke from our clothing and into the air.

"So that anti-goblin with the coloured crystal glasses is the High Countess?"

"Think so."

"Huh. You know, Maybe they have too many festivals. She could stand to skip a few meals."

"Yeah, all that food should go to Fairies. Anti-Fairies don't even have to eat to live. It's just wasteful."

My ears twitched. "How  _dare_  you?" I demanded, grabbing for my wand. The children squealed and ducked their heads.

Anti-Elina grabbed my arm and yanked me back. "Julius, no."

"Why not? They're mocking you! Anti-Bryndin isn't here to defend your honour, so as the only Anti-Fairy drake in this travelling party, I feel it is my duty to step in." I pointed my claw at the offending miscreants. "I would never let them speak about  _my_  wife that way!" True, admittedly Anti-Elina always had been rounder and heavier than most, but that was no reason to point it out as though it was the first thing you noticed when she came into town, any more than one should immediately question my mother's burn scars, or scoff at my short stature, or mock Anti-Bryndin's Far Westian accent, or grill Augustus on the motor tic that made him twitch and stutter. I typically made an effort not to focus on such deviations from "the norm" myself, and not only because my vision wasn't all that good. Simply, I fervently believed in looking past the surface. It was what lay inside that counted in the end.

"They're pups," Anti-Elina said crisply. "Ignore them."

I groaned, but stuffed my wand back in my sheath appropriately. Esterale was a mountain town, and as everyone floated along the pass towards its entrance, I walked beside my mother. "I say, this  _is_  the town Nana Anti-Miranda came from, isn't it?"

"Yes." She turned her head, taking in the red boulders on either side of the pass. "This is likely the place I would have been born if there hadn't been any war."

"Would Anti-Robin still have been my father if you grew up here?"

"That wasn't my decision. If it were up to me, you would have been Anti-Bryndin's son."

I rotated one ear in Anti-Elina's direction. "Oh. Right. Of course."

"Your father cooked me up the best plate of aitvaras nuggets the afternoon you were conceived," Mum said wistfully. It was the nicest thing I'd ever heard her say about him. At least, I still thought of him as a him, even though the camarilla whispered sometimes that his soul might have been entangled with a baby spirit as a pup like me.

The village itself wasn't much to look at. The road ran thick with pink dust and fluff. A handful of houses, perhaps ten, clustered around a mountain stream that poured into a pool from the higher rocks. I craned my neck. Perched far up the neighboring cliff, where the stream became a waterfall that tumbled into the sky and glinted with rainbow mist, I could just make out a tiny, round-roofed building, like a garden shed comprised of white crystal. An enormous carving of a crab had been cut into the red rock below it. Beira's temple.

Anti-Elina hovered at the town entrance, her hands folded in front of her waist. The Keepers lingered on either side. We waited respectfully for an escort. Finally, a pale leprechaun drake with pink hair, dressed in blue, noticed our presence and ran up to welcome us. A moment of awkward pause ensued before he extended his left hand.

"High Countess. What brings you to our lowly shantytown?"

Anti-Elina lifted his hand in both of hers. The drake flinched visibly, as though he expected her to snap his wrist. "I wish to extend my condolences for the loss of Zvezda O'Scarlett. He was a fine drake."

"Y-yes, he was. Thanks. Why are you here?"

I locked my fingers into the fabric of my tunic, twisting it uncertainly in my hands. Anti-Elina hesitated. Then, carefully, she said, "The Blue Castle has a proposition for your town regarding the temple property. When may we discuss it?"

"Now is fine." Smiling pleasantly, he folded his arms behind his back. "Zvezda was my grandfather. What's on your mind?"

More silence. I closed my eyes and bit my lip. Anti-Elina tried again.

"I wouldn't desire to pressure you on short notice. May we join you for supper?"

"Today's not a good day for that, I'm afraid. I apologise. We didn't know you were coming and don't have anything ready." The drake turned his head. "We can talk while we skim over to see the temple, if that's okay with you."

I looked at my mum. She looked at Anti-Elina. Anti-Elina hovered there, speechless. Well? No one else was going to say anything. Dragging my chains, I trudged over to the leprechaun drake and lowered my voice. "Sir, if supper cannot be prepared, it would be appropriate for you to invite the High Countess in for tea."

The leprechaun wrinkled his nose. "Where am I supposed to get tea?"

My palms went to my eyes. I tried. I really did.

And so, our party approached the cliff with the waterfall. Anti-Elina floated alongside the leprechaun, with my mum between them while me and the Keepers followed behind. Pleasant conversation was made- short and terse on the Fairy end of things, as was typical. Anti-Elina refused to be deterred. She danced carefully around the subject at hand, making nice despite the Fairy's bluntness. After several minutes of this, my mum nudged my shoulder.

"That one," she murmured, nodding to one of the small houses shaded by a large black tree. A zinflax tree, I believe, thorny and resilient. I followed her gaze. The building she indicated was distinctly one of Anti-Fairy architecture. The garden was weedy now, the roof riddled with nests of large birds or possibly young dragons. Ah. In my mind's eye, I tried to conceive what it may have been like to grow up alongside not only other Anti-Fairy children, but Fairy ones as well. Esterale had a reputation for being extremely open-minded before the war. So this was the town where my mum's mum, Anti-Miranda, had shared a home with her Fairy partner (not "husband", legally). She'd raised my uncle Harold here, and spent six months pregnant with Auntie Joanie before the next Friday the 13th brought her sweet relief. Curious, how a simple war can change a family's fate so dramatically.

"Mum?"

She kept her focus on Anti-Elina and the leprechaun as their conversation grew slightly more heated. Still, she flicked one ear my way. "What do you want, Julius?"

"How do you feel about your mum marrying a Fairy before you were born?"

A grunt. Her grip tightened on her staff, strong muscles bunching in her arms. Oh. No response? I tugged on her tunic.

"Do you think I might ever fall in love with a Fairy?"

Her eyes slid down to me. "Don't be preposterous. Are you thick? You're betrothed to that Soil dame under Tarrow's blessing. You're going to marry her."

Oh. I'd forgotten. Still, it was an interesting concept. A Fairy and an Anti-Fairy, living together and grossly smitten with love. It sounded like a child's storybook. I couldn't help the urge to ponder how it might end.

Anti-Elina gestured towards the temple high above us. "Drake O'Scarlett, we Anti-Fairies consider this land to have historical significance. Our hope is that we may purchase the temple from you so we can continue to preserve it for future generations to visit and enjoy."

The drake held up his hands defensively. "Hey, let's not get upset about this. I want you to know straight off that I don't [have intimate relations with] Anti-Fairies."

You could have heard the plip of three Anti-Fairies' anxiety shooting into the energy field from a dozen kilobeats away. Anti-Elina brought her fingertips to her jade circlet. "Excuse me?"

Realisation, in some form, dawned on his face. "Oh," he said. "My word choice was crass. Right. You're the High Countess. What I meant to say was, I don't think it's appropriate for us to have a casual encounter over a matter like this. Let's take those hormones down a notch."

That did it. I peered around my mother. "Us? Overemotional? I say! That's a rather barbed statement to come from a species and sex who actually menstruate!"

"Julius," Anti-Elina snapped. "You're not helping."

"Well, it's true," I muttered into her tunic. "I read about it in an essay regarding external justification once. Takes the phrase 'bloody emotions' to an entirely different level."

My mum stabbed the back of my head with the blunt end of her staff. As I was rubbing it, a Fairy damsel with puffy yellow hair  _poof_ ed over to see what was going on over here.

"What's going on over here?" she asked, reasonably.

"These Anti-Fairies want to buy the mountain shrine," the drake informed her, brushing off the hem of his shirt.

This new damsel, a banshee from the look of her enormous crown, looked at us curiously. "I thought Anti-Fairies didn't believe in possessing land."

"That's correct, dame. We didn't, until we wanted to get this piece of land back from your people." Anti-Elina touched her chest. "In fact, our eventual goal is to reclaim all the old temples to the minor spirits that are littered throughout Fairy World, just as we presently hold jurisdiction over all Zodiac Temples but the Water one. Historically, Zvezda has refused us no matter what we offered. We're hoping that views may have changed now that he is, regretfully, out of the picture. Beira is a very respected figure in our culture, and I know your people are the reasonable type. I hope that we can work out a deal."

As she spoke, the damsel's smile tugged down into a frown. By the end of Anti-Elina's explanation, she had crossed her arms. "Because  _my_  people can't be trusted to maintain a few little buildings? You don't think we can treat it right? We're not a bunch of wand-waving idiots, you know."

My mum made a move forward with her staff. Anti-Elina raised her hand, gesturing for her to stay back. "I'm sorry. We've come a long way. May we discuss this over tea?"

"The shrine's ours," the banshee said, placing her hand on the leprechaun's upper arm. "The money from the tourists sustains our village."

Anti-Elina considered this statement. "Then we should be able to strike up a deal. I assure you, were Anti-Fairies permitted to frequent this place, you would have an abundance of tourists as early as the first week. In a matter of months, your little village could bloom into a large, bustling town. Imagine the opportunities."

The leprechaun backed away, holding his hand to the banshee's fingers on his shoulder. "The offer is appreciated, High Countess, but I'm afraid we're going to have to refuse. The mountain shrine was built on Fairy territory, and while we're living here, we'd like the majority of our visitors to remain Fairies."

"If you'd give us a chance, I'm sure we can work something out-"

"Your filthy money's useless," said the stubborn banshee. "We don't want any of it. And if your husband flies out here to try and mind-control us using Winni's favour, I'll have him thrown behind bars. I'm a lawyer, you know."

Which explained why she was living here in the shantytown.  _Law_. Pfft. What a useless profession. This is what we had the Fairy Council and Da Rules for.

"Honey," Anti-Elina said sarcastically, folding her arms, "please. If I sent my husband out here to 'mind-control you', you would be dead before your lips came apart. Anti-swanee have horns for a reason. I'd sleep with one eye open." Whipping around, ignoring the horrified gasps and the way the nearest Keeper grabbed her arm, Anti-Elina stalked off with her gloved fists clenched by her waist. My mum kept pace with her, and the other Keepers fell into beat behind.

After one final glance at the temple and the crab carving on the cliff, I hurried on their heels as fast as my biting chains could take me. "High Countess," I began.

_"Yes?"_

I set back my ears at her tone, but kept my voice level. "Can we walk the path the refugees took through the mountains when they left? We don't have to go far. I just want to get an idea of what it looked like."

"There were no Anti-Fairy refugees in Esterale," said one of the Keepers.

I twisted around. "What? Certainly there were. My maternal grandnana was a refugee from here. She came from the Far West Region to mourn over my aunt Anti-Joanie, and she told me about it. I knew about the temple and the crab, and about the red colour I would see here. I knew what to expect because she told me stories of what it was like."

The Keeper shrugged. "Anti-Fairies lived here before the war, but they weren't refugees. No Fairy forced them out. When the time came, they left willingly through the gate."

"Hmm," I said, and that was all.


	12. Kasa d'Sõchu!

_In which Juliu_ _s communes with a curious anti-fairy damsel in Fairy World, and prepares to embark on his_ canetis  _ritual_

* * *

So, reclaiming Beira's temple from the Esterale Fairies never worked out. Still, I daresay I had an enjoyable puphood without it nonetheless. I continued my studies, both with the rest of my litter and on my own. I memorised architectural designs from across the ages, dabbled in hexes and the occasional potion, practiced starpiece and karmic magic alike, indulged in my umbrae-summoning abilities under Anti-Penny's supervision, and waited impatiently for the day I was to learn how to transform into a splendid fox that would make Her Glory Cadmea proud. And above all, I read everything I could sink my claws into that made the slightest mention about Anti-Fairy reproduction.

Among my greatest accomplishments of that general time period was the day I convinced Anti-Bryndin to take young Winslow and I across Fairy World so that I might pay a visit to the Eros Nest (a sort of modern, massive indoor menagerie managed by the cherubs Venus, Charite, and Ludell Eros) in the Central Star Region. The Eroses were triplets, and famous ones too. I was 21 years old, and feeling terribly good about myself, for it was a Sunday in a Water Year that day, and I just knew that somewhere in reality, Sunnie was smiling down on me from the depths of his Temple. That day was always meant to be a special one. The day the luck in my life was due to change, and my fate approached my destiny.

Upon arriving at the Nest and paying our entrance fee, I wanted to see the Anti-Fairies, of course. Anti-Bryndin insisted that since we were coming so far, we should visit creatures we didn't see normally in everyday life, such as griffins, dragons, and seahorses. Hmph. I parted ways with him and Winslow, ensuring them both that I'd be around the Fae area and they could find me easily enough when they were done. Of course, I didn't actually let on the reason  _why_  the nature of Anti-Fairies held my interest. I had told no one yet. The Anti-Fairy reproductive system was my project, my passion, and no adult would steal the victory of unlocking such secrets away from me. I was already composing research papers then, and when I completed my hard work, I wanted my name to be the one stamped across it. I had to do this myself.

The Eros Nest was organised majorly alphabetically, with all the Fairykind housed near each other, but divided into the three genera, and from there into individual subspecies. The building's corridors towered whole metres above my head, and were wider across than a half-dozen wingspans. I wandered past rows of wide glass windows which peered into enclosure after enclosure, scrutinising each sign and map carefully as I made my way to the Anti-Fairy exhibits on the third floor.

I quickly found myself in a deserted hallway, empty of any exhibits themselves, but utterly lined with enormous brass informational plaques with the words spelled out in some of the most prominent languages throughout this quadrant of the universe. I paused. Why, could it be? Were these all these plaques purely for Anti-Fairies? It seemed quite likely, for life-sized Anti-Fairies were painted along the walls in fascinating detail, and model bats dangled from the ceiling on strings, gently spinning in the air.

 _Did you know?_ read the first sign.  _Anti-Fairies fall into the Tao classification as one of the races who maintain homeostasis (the balance of positive and negative energy) in the universe._

I chuckled. "Yes, I did know that, actually. Thank you."

Beside it hung another sign. _Did you know? From a young age, some Anti-Fairies look like they have small black beards. These Anti-Fairies are called pilots and share many more physical and mental behaviors with their patrons than kabouters do. The more powerful pilots will develop a mustache pattern of black fur as well._

You know, that made more sense than Anti-Bryndin clipping his "moustache" off.

_Did you know? Most Anti-Fairies don't need to eat to stay alive. However, they eat to retain their health and avoid a fate of constant starvation and regeneration._

_Did you know? When the hosting counterpart among three Fairykind races dies, the other two counterparts die the same day._

_Did you know? Baby Anti-Fairies are called pups. Pups look square for the first several months of their lives because they are born in blubbery exoskeletons to protect their fragile bodies._

_Did you know? In many cultures across the cosmos, the kiss of an Anti-Fairy is said to be a blessing of peaceful death._

_Anti-Fairies have soft fur on most of their fronts, and scales covered in hair on their backs. These scales protect them from larger predators who might sneak up behind them, eat them, and cause them to die and partially regenerate in their stomachs in an endless cycle. Anti-Fairies are also immune to magical blasts if hit on their scales, just like armadillos._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairy damsels also have some scales on their breasts, which sharpen the pup's fangs as he nurses without hurting the mother._

_Did you know? The tissue of Anti-Fairy wings grows back very quickly. Anti-Fairy wings heal within an hour after being torn._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies love flowers! All subspecies are adapted to gaining nutrition from the nectar with their long tongues. Pollen clings to their fur and is spread when Anti-Fairies travel._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies also use their long tongues to clean their wings._

_Did you know? The idea that Anti-Fairies drink blood isn't just a story. Fresh blood significantly boosts their energy and allows them to continue traveling. They make nips in the skin of other creatures near the veins and lap up only a small percent of that creature's blood._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies cannot fly over long distances like the Fairies and the Refracted. Due to their wing structure, and the fact that they become dizzy when the magic in their heads cools and sinks to their feet, they cannot remain airborne for longer than two hours at a time, and must take a long rest to regain strength._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies must live in cold temperatures (15-30_ ° _R) to remain healthy. Prolonged exposure to temperatures outside this range makes them sick. The land of Hy-Brasil is cold even for them, so Anti-Fairies huddle together for warmth when they sleep. Anti-Fairies don't like bright sunlight because their black wings quickly absorb the heat._

_Did you know? All Anti-Fairies are born on Friday the 13th. Anti-Fairies born on the same Friday the 13th are said to be born in the same litter, even when they come from different parents or different colonies._

_Did you know? You can tell if an Anti-Fairy is older or younger than the rest of their litter by the color of their fur. Anti-Fairies with light fur are older, and are naturally warmer. Younger Anti-Fairies have dark fur, and are naturally colder._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies rely on echolocation more than their other senses. This means that every few seconds, they release high-pitched sounds from their mouths (between 25 and 75 kHz) that most races in their habitat range can't hear, and twitch their ears as they listen for the echoes. These echoes help them figure out what is in their way, and how to avoid it._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies have developed 25 different calls they use to avoid interfering with one another's echolocation when traveling in groups._

_Did you know? Sometimes, Anti-Fairies will blast each other's ears with their echolocation at close range on purpose to throw a rival off balance. This is known as sweep jamming._

_Did you know? Anti-will o' the wisps cannot echolocate. This is because their patron species is the six-spot burnet moth instead of a bat. Instead, they have a special organ called a tympanum which can detect - and deflect - the sonar of other Anti-Fairies._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies avoid traveling in the rain. Rain interferes with their sonar ability. This makes the dry cloudlands the perfect habitat for them._

_Did you know? Nearly all Anti-Fairies lack the leg strength to take off directly from the ground, and must drop from a higher location to successfully fly. This is partly why they sleep upside-down._

_Did you know? The other reason Anti-Fairies sleep upside-down is because the cold, saline magic produced in their heads is so dense that it will sink to their feet if they remain upright for too long, causing the Anti-Fairy to become dizzy and sick._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies can't see flat glass with their eyes, and glass reads as a solid wall to their sonar._

_Did you know? When Anti-Fairies are excited, their toes curl up and their fangs fold back against the roof of their mouth. Their wings also stretch forward like they're asking for a hug._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies do not have regular heat cycles and are rarely fertile. They are only fertile for a single day three months after their hosting counterpart mates with a partner. On this day, two fertile Anti-Fairies have potential to conceive a pup. This window of fertility is called the honey-lock._

This plaque made me pause. Search for anything related to Anti-Fairy reproduction, and you're bound to hear about the honey-lock at every turn. I probably knew more about the honey-lock than any child my age in the universe, except perhaps those who had been molested or some rot. I placed my palm against the wall and gazed at those words for a long time.  _Anti-Fairies do not have regular heat cycles. They are only fertile for a single day…_

Oh, but if I could find a way to remove the honey-lock from the equation and turn that single day into an entire lifetime! My answer lay here, inside the Eros Nest. Somewhere. I knew so absolutely. I could taste it in my saliva, as though Sunnie were attempting to communicate with me through the most available liquid in my body. I came closer to unravelling the self-inflicted mystery every passing day. Were I to do so, then perhaps I'd live to see a plaque with my hard research placed on this very wall someday.

_Did you know? When Anti-Fairies honey-lock, their fur turns the same color as their primary counterpart's eyes. Honey-lock magic makes them glow and glitter. They leave glowing marks in that color on everything they touch while honey-locked, including their honey-lock partner. These glowing marks fade after twenty-four hours._

_Did you know? Most Anti-Fairies live in colonies that consist of only one drake, his harem of damsels (central and peripheral damsels), and their offspring. Some dominant males may allow a single subservient drake (the follower drake) to remain, and on some occasions may allow a few more, but the rest are driven out or leave by choice around the age of 150,000. These juvenile males may live as solitary rogues or form bachelor colonies for a time until rivalry drives them apart._

_Did you know? There are very few cities or permanent homes to be found in Anti-Fairy World. Most Anti-Fairies travel with their colonies, and the buildings in their world are gathering places, storage areas, or places to do business._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairies are regularly attracted to partners with lighter fur, as light fur signifies a warmer and healthier individual. Perfect for cuddling with to stay warm in the cold cloudlands!_

Oof.

_Did you know? An Anti-Fairy drake sings to woo a damsel he hopes to mate with. These songs are too low-pitched for most races in their habitat range to hear, but you can feel the notes vibrating your bones. Each drake sings his own unique song._

_Did you know? Anti-Fairy sires carry their pups in the pouch on their stomach for thirteen days before the baby is ready to be transferred to the dam's pouch, where it will remain until the first Friday the 13th following the three-month gestation period._

_Did you know? All Anti-Fairies are born with red eyes, which light up with color once they contract the "iris virus" sexually-transmitted disease from another infected Unseelie, or from any member of the Seelie Court._

That was the last one. Almost a shame, too, for the plaques were just beginning to discuss the curiosities of Anti-Fairy reproduction that I so needed answers for. Hoping my luck would turn, I flew around the hallway corner, and instantly flattened my back to the nearest wall.

"Oh, jolly sparks! No  _way_."

The entire corridor in front of me became a tunnel. A tunnel that appeared to be comprised of mesh on three sides, with glass along the floor. All around, to the left and the right and above and below, were trees, shrubbery, rocks, and Anti-Fairies.

Dozens of Anti-Fairies.

Hundreds of Anti-Fairies.

Swooping.

Diving.

Roosting.

Squeaking.

Glorious.

Anti-Fairies.

Naked, with breasts bared and legs exposed in whole, but they were beautiful nonetheless. Presumably a few subspecies, like the anti-will o' the wisps, had not been included in the exhibit due to body structure differences and habitat preferences, but there were certainly a lot of them. Oh, what a show it was! The corridor was curiously deserted of visitors, and I slid along it, turning my head and turning my body every which way and thanking every nature spirit I knew for the mesh that allowed me to at least partially echolocate and better drink in the view. All about me, actual Anti-Fairies were flying like storms.

"Oh, look at you fine folk! You are all so gorgeous, my friends- simply gorgeous!"

A new information panel listing each of the 30+ subspecies and their identifying characteristics had been set in the tunnel every metre or so. I glanced over them, trying to find the one that was mine. Several of the specimens on the opposite side of the mesh took an interest in me before I made it more than halfway along the corridor. They clustered close, clinging to the wireframe of the curved walls and settling on the ceiling. "Hey, hey," they chorused. Every one of them had uncovered feet, of course, with the common anti-fairies flashing their signature white toes.

Carefully, appropriately, I focused on one of the nearer, louder damsels. She was small, probably only a couple thousand years older than I was. No  _canetis_  rings marred her ears, which were much smaller than they ought to have been. She couldn't possibly be a full-blooded common anti-fairy. What, then, I wondered. She hovered before me as naked as the others, and a low heat sunk from my core to my cheeks as I examined her. Her blue fur was abnormally thin, and the colour bordered on grey. Certainly she had fluff lining her cheeks, but the sheer sparseness of her coat emphasized the slender shape of her body and, um, how do we say... It left, ah, very little to the imagination. The slit of her pouch lay plainly visible down her stomach line. I looked away so as not to embarrass her, then back before I could stop myself. I couldn't simply pretend I hadn't noticed her now that I'd met her piercing, curious eyes. Her seering attention stole my capability of speech. I licked my lips.

Her black wings stretched freely from her back, and hadn't been bound with chains like mine despite her youth. Her teeth didn't sit quite right in her mouth… jutting over her lower lip in crooked squares that were strangely flat instead of pointed into fangs. While that seemed a bit odd, it was the spiralled curls in her hair which caught my attention most. Her hair licked about her cheeks and down the back of her neck in a stunning flash of lightning blue. Blue like mine, although a little lighter, as opposed to the stereotypical black hair of so many other Anti-Fairies I'd met over the course of my life. Automatically, my instinct when I looked upon her was to reach behind my neck and touch my own hair. I'd never spent much thought on its colour, but now I wondered about its rarity. And silently, I cursed the dull scruffiness I had inherited from my father. The damsel before me may share my colour, but  _her_  curls were luxurious, reflecting the harsh white lights that lined the floors and clung to the ceilings in solid bubbles that held them trapped. I wished my hair would glint and reflect like that.

The damsel blinked bright red eyes at me, her head to one side. Shiny, chipped claws protruded through the mesh. So did toes with white markings up to the ankles. She'd been smiling at me since our gazes locked, but I couldn't decide whether or not it was appropriate to smile back. The aura of confidence she projected frankly intimidated me, as though I were the one on display and she the observer come to pry me apart with her eyes and study every molecule that made me tick. You know that saying about how when speaking in public, you ought to imagine your audience naked to quell your nerves? Well, I assure you that nothing in this world has ever unnerved me more than a completely naked and yet eerily confident damsel. When I did smile back at her, it was forced and close-lipped. I ducked my head, averting my youthful gaze, for never before now had my innocence been quite this compromised. Particularly not by a damsel. My hand came up out of instinct to shield my face as I turned away. I was about to move on when she spoke.

"Ben'ara! Kasa d'sõchu!"

My wings jolted.  _Hiya_ , she was saying.  _I want to be your friend._  "You speak Vatajasa?" Of course the locked-up anti-fairy speaks Vatajasa. That's hardly a help to me and my need for a translator. She smiled wider, crooked teeth notwithstanding, and waited patiently for my response. Right. Time to put all those years of my mother's lessons to the test. I coughed into my fist and forced myself to focus on her red eyes. "Um, yes. Ben'argenta, dimtu."

"Koh sintu caneti?" In this context, it translated to something like, "What are you?" In a very polite way, of course.

 _"Oh, I'm just a simple, common anti-fairy like yourself,"_  I said in my shaky translation, bowing my head so she and the drakes and damsels around her could count the six points on my black crown.

The damsel shook out all her shiny blue hair. Her curls bounced about her shoulders like river water over rocks. What was her zodiac, I wondered?  _"Not just an_ anti-fairy, _"_  she said in Vatajasa, her tone even more crisp and flowing than the casual dialect my mother had taught me.  _"You've got an_ anti-brownie _nose. If you're really an_  anti-fairy _, prove it. Show us the_ toes _on your hidden_ feets _."_

"The toes," several other damsels agreed, their voices running together in a similar blur that hinted at many generations of next to no education, a lifetime of gathering their language skills based on whatever visitors said to them, a lifetime of catching the wrong examples of syntax with their sharp memories and recalling those inefficient rules of grammar forever, a lifetime of Vatajasa and Snobbish and who knows what else colliding into pidgin. I felt a strange spark of pity when I looked at them then, but shrugged it away with a smile.

"Oh, all right, if you insist." At least my conversation partner hadn't requested I show off my long black tail, still hidden away in my trousers in case someone of authority should ever hear word about it.

They twittered and rustled about, prodding at one another with claws and wings as I sat down and wriggled off my left shoe. Then I pulled off my sock. Squeaks, gasps, and chirps lit the air and sent the Anti-Fairies into a cheerful frenzy again. The damsels took off and regrouped, returning with friends or sometimes alone. "Toes, toes- _he is one!"_  they purred, and all I could do was shake my head and grin. As our patron bat species before us, we common anti-fairies were famous for the white hairs on our toes. My markings were splotchy, cutting off halfway to my heel with a ripple like tea in a rattling cup. I'd never realised before that they were so exciting. But, I suppose the Anti-Fairies didn't receive much stimulation in their exhibit, and they were just as curious about a newcomer of their kind as I was about seeing so many of them.

I stood up, attempting to balance on one foot as I replaced my sock. The chains weighing down my wings forced me to lilt sharply to my right side. As I fumbled, I caught the eye of the damsel with the blue curls again. It wasn't just that she was one of only two blue-haired dames in the exhibit as near as I could tell, but the curls themselves really stuck out to me as an identifying feature.  _"Hello,"_ I said. _"May I ask… what is… it like for… all of you… all of you… in there, this place? I… am…"_  I didn't know the word I needed, "outsider", so I substituted another.  _"I visit… your… home. Are you… treated… well… here?"_

She hesitated, and a moment of panic made me wonder if I was as fluent as my few years of practice had led me to believe.  _"'Treated'?"_  she repeated.

I reconsidered my statement. I'd chosen to use the higher tongue, trying to match her word choice and proper grammar. But I knew I wasn't very good at it. I found myself at a curious crossroads. I could either describe my thoughts poetically, tripping over myself and my words and taking forever to express even a basic concept as my anxiety rose, or I could fall back on a much simpler, rougher, not-fully-conjugated dialect to get by. It would get my message across quickly and easily, although I'd perhaps be thought of as slow and stupid by the native speakers in the enclosure. I scratched my ear.

 _"Do them_ cherub _folk guys here always keep at being real nice to you?"_  I asked. My cheeks burned at once. The sentence was remarkably less strenuous on my tongue, but I hated how uneducated I sounded as the words left my mouth. Several drakes nearby smirked at me, abruptly no longer perceiving me as either a threat or a desirable mate. A few damsels stifled their laughs.

 _"Nice…"_  The dame clenched her fingers and toes more tightly around the mesh.  _"Yep. That depends on who you ask, I guess."_

I bit my lip, forcing my feet to remain planted until the conversation was done, even though my anxiety  _screamed_  in my head to take off running where I didn't feel so humiliated. Vatajasa came so easily to her. Why, despite my years of practice, didn't it come easily to me?  _"Well,"_  I struggled, tugging at my trousers, bunching the fabric with my claws, _"how's it feel like in there? It's, uh…"_  What was a Vatajasa word that means  _spacious_?  _"This place is a big, deep hole. Except I bet it don't come close to the big space I got as someone that exists as a person outside."_

(Oh gods, help me.)

Her expression fell. _"Yeah, I can only imagine. I'd be happy enough to explode if I got the chance to travel outside."_  At least, I assumed from the context that she was speaking of the outside.

 _"You didn't never go outside before?"_  My strained smile tugged further down at the corners. It was a disturbing sort of thought. Here I was spending entire years of my life locked away in solitude in my study, when there were Anti-Fairies in the northwest desperately dreaming of venturing outdoors. Perhaps it was time I checked my privilege, if there were people so much worse off than me.

It was difficult to regret my choices, though.

 _"I did once."_  Her tone was evasive. She peered at me, then beckoned me closer with a twitching claw. I stepped forward, and she leaned her head so near the mesh, the tips of our noses actually bumped.  _"I wasn't born inside the_ Eros Nest _the way most of the others in here was."_

My eyes widened. "Really? Ooh, _that is a noted thing."_

 _"Yep. It's my little claim to status. I used to live in the_ Maroon Region, _with my sis and my mum. But my sis and I were separated from her…"_  Her voice trailed off. Her scarlet eyes flicked down to my feet.  _"Now she and I live here. We have food every day, and we get to be taken care of. It's tough some days, but we're together, at least."_

 _"I got this crudhole place to hang out in the_  Navy Region _,"_  I said, trying to keep my tone casual instead of bragging. _"This place is the_ Blue Castle _. I am a fancy, special person."_

Wow. Oh, Julius. The instant those words left my lips, the Anti-Fairies who overhead me threw back their heads and howled.  _"He speaks like a pup,"_  they tittered all around, or something close to that. I dropped my gaze, rubbing my elbow.

 _"It's okay,"_  the curly-haired damsel coaxed me.  _"I know they're laughing, but they can't hurt you. Ignore them. They're just being mean. You speak Vatajasa very well."_

 _"They are right,"_  I said bitterly.  _"Good smoke. I am not a person who has real smarts. I elicit anger from everyone always, and I cannot seem to do stuff right, even the talking stuff part."_

_"You speak two languages. I'm the one who's incredibly stupid here. I can only speak one."_

_"Oh, do not you talk that way about yourself,"_  I protested, stepping forward, clutching my sock.  _"You talk real good Vatajasa. Such is not a stupid thing."_

She stuck her tongue out at me.  _"Says a person with less status than the stars."_

_"All right. I get what you say. I'll be good to me. Now, stop it when you say bad things about you."_

The damsel caught my miserable gaze and smiled. And then, to my shock, she dropped out of her eloquent speech for a much rougher dialect that mimicked the one I was using.  _"Yeah, I knew you was noble since you got fancy people eyes. Real pretty green ones. Have you travelled far? The_ Navy Region _I think is far. This_ Region's Purple _. I think it's_ Purple _. It's in the_ Fairy World."

I listened to her, the way she stepped down from her pedestal just to help me not feel so incredibly s-stupid in front of her friends, and I pushed my hand beneath my eyes. Somehow, a laugh slipped out between my sniffles. She said each word carefully, just slow enough for me to understand the meaning, without talking down in a babyish way that insulted my intelligence. The difference was subtle, and it was immense. I felt better about myself already.  _"I do not get out and 'round a whole bunch,"_  I admitted, turning so she could have a closer look at the chains weighing down my wings.  _"This is a sad thing, but the endless urge to explore that I have inside me is both a good thing and a bad thing. I gotta be stuck on the ground 'til I beat my_ canetis _when my cohort does step into its fiftieth year."_

 _"Cans?"_  She tipped her head. _"Court?"_

"Oh." I stared at her blankly, for the first time realising how little she truly knew of Anti-Fairy traditions and customs. Her advanced language skills meant nothing if she didn't have the proper context. I pitied her.

The damsel nodded anyway, crossing her eyes in thought. Still clinging to the wire mesh between us, she brought one long toe up to her face and scratched her chin.  _"Hey, we don't see other_ Anti-Fairies _on that side of the_ cage _too much. I need to ask you for a somethin'."_

 _"Yes. You can ask me to do a thing for you. If I can gladify you even a small drop, I want to. All_ Anti-Fairies _should have nice things done to them from other people."_

She nodded slowly.  _"Okay. So, if you ever meet the_ fairy _one of me, because I have six twins, but only two are_ Fairies _and only one's the other me, you have to say to her, 'Take someone whose twin isn't in the big bat box for a mate.'"_

 _"Yes,"_  I said, not really following whatever logic her brain seemed to operate with. "Twin" must be her word for "counterpart." I wondered if she had a better word for it in her language, but feared I wouldn't recognise it, or if no one had ever taught it to her during her time imprisoned in the Eros Nest.

 _"Yeah, that way, when she - my other me - when she's got a lover and a pup, I'll get my_ colours _changed up. Then when it's my turn to have a pup, I'll use my_ coloured _magic to break through the walls of this place and fly off to meet my drake-mate."_  All at once, her eyes began to shine. Her grin expanded, and she slipped in a few delightful chuckles.  _"And then when I'm finished doing what I'll do with him, I'm never coming back. I'm never stopping or slowing down. I'm gonna see the whooole world!"_

At least, that was the gist of what she said. Chunks of it were lost in translation, but that seemed to be the general idea. She was describing the honey-lock, from the point of view of a poor damsel who had never had the fortune to gain much of an education, even something so simple as the wands and wings talk handed down by relatives who knew how it all worked. I stood there, holding my second sock in one hand, and searched her face with a squint. At such direct eye-contact, I half-expected her to duck and flee back to the ranks of her peers, but she met my gaze head-on without the slightest wince.

"That's… that's incredibly insightful," I said, slipping back into my native Snobbish. "I'd never thought about it that way before, but I've always heard that the honey-lock instinct 'can't be prevented or fought', for it seizes the mind and returns us briefly to the ancient, powerful state our ancestors were once in, back before magic became a thing of wands and most of the old ways were lost to us. I suppose it's entirely plausible. There's no reason your plan shouldn't work. I say, I wonder if perhaps you aren't much too smart to be locked up in there all your life, hm?"

Her smile faded.  _"You think I'm not too smart?"_

Oh. She understood a bit of Snobbish after all? Before I could protest that I'd said the opposite of how she interpreted my sentiment, a blur of blue shot across my vision, pinning itself between me and my conversation partner. A young anti-fairy drake, right about the damsel's age, with shining black hair tied in a bun behind his head. His eyes stretched wide. "Hey, you must be moving along. That one is mine."

"Ugh." The damsel put back her head.  _"Gollll_ ly _. We were just chatting a little 'cuz I think this fellow is neat. Lighten up, sugar."_

He frowned at her. "Why do you sound so dumb now? He has corrupted you to speak in such a way?"

"Oh, uh- Terribly sorry." He spoke Snobbish with a Chif accent, like Anti-Penny, which wouldn't have been my first assumption. Stumbling away, I yanked my other sock back on. "I didn't mean any offense; I was merely making conversation with this charming young dame. Um. What's your name, good fellow?"

"Anti-Juandissimo."

I winced. That was his adult name, and he most certainly wasn't an adult. "Oh."

Anti-Juandissimo clutched the mesh, panic flaring like bursting stars in his eyes. "You know our creche father? Anti-Binky? He said I could have this one. You may not touch her. Ever."

"I am absolutely certain that won't be a problem. You're in there. I'm out here. Besides." I flashed the blue ring on my hand. "I'm betrothed."

Rows of eyes blinked at me. A few of the Anti-Fairies tipped their heads. "What is?" one of the damsels asked in Snobbish, eyes fixed on my ring.

"You don't know? It's, um…" I looked at the ring and rubbed behind my ear. "It's a Zodii betrothal ring. Lots of Anti-Fairies have these outside. It's blue for the Water year."

"What is Water year?"

"What is betrothal?"

"What is Zodii?"

"Oh dear." I scanned the ceiling and upper wall. More and more Anti-Fairies were beginning to cluster around, lured over when their friends hadn't lost interest in me. "Well," I said, "when I wear this ring, it means I have a special damsel waiting for me back home. We're together. She's mine."

The Antis chattered among themselves. The damsel I'd been speaking with studied me in silence, her finger on her cheek. My ears flicked back and forth. Anti-Juandissimo scratched at the mesh. "It makes you attractive to damsels?" he asked. "May I see?"

I chuckled. "I think you'll fly off with it if I hand it over."

He put out a pouting lip. "You come here, see my damsel, and accuse me of dishonour?"

"I mean no offense." I dipped my head so he would know I was serious. "Simply, this ring is special to me, and I'm not going to part with it so easily. Cheerio, now!"

It was as good a chance to duck out of the conversation as any. I moved along the tunnel, with most of the Anti-Fairies keeping pace with me on wing or by crawling over the mesh. Podium plaques lined both sides of the walkway, and my eyes skimmed across each one in turn. Ant-imps. Anti-nixes. Anti-cherubs. But oh, which one was mine?

"Ah, now here we are!" I braced my hands to either side of the last plaque I came across (which I suppose would have been first had I entered the tunnel from that end). I carefully used my fingers to cover the naked anti-fairy that had been painted on the left with its fluffy tail exposed. I had to stand on the very tips of my toes to read it. "'Common Anti-Fairies -  _Faeumbra fae._ Patron: Elrulian free-tailed bat -  _Tadarida brasiliensis._  Like their patrons before them, the common anti-fairy is said to be the fastest race of all the Anti-Fairy class. They are distinctly identifiable by their black crowns, black wings, the rounded points of their wide ears, longer tails than any other subspecies, and eight pale blue or white toes (although the markings may reach as far as the ankles). While most Anti-Fairies have short, fluffy, blue tails, after a common anti-fairy sheds its exoskeleton, it then develops a thin, scruffy, black tail as long as half its body protruding from its upper tail fluff. This tail continues to thicken as the anti-fairy grows."

Out of habit, I gave my own tail an attempted swish. Oh, it didn't look much like now, but I was descended from the Teumessian fox. It was going to bush beautifully by the time I became an adult, I just knew it. At least one benefit of training as an acolyte when I was older was, upon completion of my studies, I would be socially permitted to display my tail in full splendor. Imagine how drakes and damsels alike would swoon over me then.

"'Anti-Fairies are social creatures even as pups. Once they shed their exoskeletons, they are sorted into small groups (called creches) with other pups their age and size. In these creches, they are able to huddle for warmth, which becomes a necessity once the blubbery exoskeleton is shaken off. Common anti-fairies are one of the Anti-Fairy subspecies who will huddle with other Anti-Fairies regardless of their race. A group of anti-fairies is called a colony.'"

"We are a colony," one of the damsels agreed, flapping her wings.

"'The species is omnivorous,'" I murmured, my voice trailing lower as I continued to read. "Anti-fairies greatly favour soft meat over fruit and leaves, though they will also snack on bugs and flower nectar when other food sources prove scarce. Their fangs are made for nipping small bites, not slicing and tearing off tough strips. It is thought that Anti-Fairies in general prefer to lap at warmer blood than what runs beneath their own race's skin, and folklore tells that they are attracted to black cats because their dark fur absorbs heat, thereby warming the cats' bodies and blood…

"'Common Anti-fairies are promiscuous by nature, favouring polygynandry. There appears to be little discrimination between the different subspecies when it comes to mate selection, though most bat-based Anti-Fairies will reject an Anti-Fairy from a non-bat-based subspecies, and common anti-fairies are no exception. Male/female pairs are most commonly found, with male/male pairs only slightly less common, and female/female pairs occurring significantly less frequently in nature, though their cultural traditions of betrothals have raised the frequency of such pairings considerably. Following brief courtship behaviour, common anti-fairies mate upside-down, clinging to cave ceilings, rafters, or branches. On some occasions, the smaller partner may cling completely to the larger one.

"'Drakes display sexual interest by singing to the object of their affection. An anti-fairy damsel often displays interest by licking the base of her partner's throat once he has approached her and settled into position. In this way, she catches her partner's bright honey-lock glow on her tongue; their long tongues, in fact, are highly dexterous and used considerably in courtship behaviour. In many cultures across the universe, the severed tongue of a honey-locked anti-fairy is a symbol of fertility said to increase the probability of conception for as long as it glows. Although their migration grounds are frequently invaded by hopeful poachers come to steal their tongues, anti-fairies are not considered a threatened species.'"

I paused, picking at the sides of the plaque with my claws as I continued to stare at it. Nothing that had been said was something I didn't already know about myself and my people. The information presented here wasn't… inherently…  _offensive_. But somehow, reading such intimate details  _bothered_  me enough to leave me shaking when I dropped back onto the heels of my feet. It was just that whoever had written this stuff seemed to have no problem portraying me like I was, well…

… just one tiny creature in the universe. Just a simple bat. Non-sentient. An animal. Nothing more.

"Is it really so necessary to tell everyone all of that in public?" I muttered. After brushing off my tunic, I hurried along the tunnel in search of the next corridor, my chains scraping across the tile behind me.

That was the Eros Nest. An intriguing curiosity to visit once or twice, though not nearly as beneficial for my purposes as I had hoped. One endless source of frustration, I found, was that no matter how hard I worked (And I worked! When I had the energy to, anyway), as the weeks blurred into months, then years, and then decades, it seemed as though I were hardly making a dent in the project I felt so passionate about.

Enough eventually became enough. There were only so many times I could stand to let my hopes rise, only for them to crash down again when felled by disappointment. It was time I accepted the fact that no researcher had ever ventured where I was digging before. To continue my desperate pursuit of knowledge, I would need to experiment myself. Without having sufficient research to back me up. I spent weeks at my desk, tapping the end of my quill against my chin. I'd exhausted all my tomes and dusty scrolls, and I'd studied Anti-Fairy courtship behaviours up close and in person whenever I had the chance.

But  _studying_  was easy. How did one take behaviours they'd observed and turn that information into something tangible to work with? My grand plan had been to uncover the answers to all my questions written and forgotten somewhere, not to go out and do the tedious work myself. Where did I even start? Should I begin by altering the conditions of the environment where a fertile Anti-Fairy couple bred? After all, rumors held that there were some creatures in the universe who produced young offspring only if they bred while exposed to burning incense. Perhaps that would be an interesting place to draw my focus.

But none of them were like me. Like us. Like Anti-Fairies. What other race in the universe could breed successfully only in response to the birth of a child in an entirely different genus, besides us and the Fairy Refracts?

It didn't make sense. How did we end up this way? Yes, I  _knew_  my Solitary Fae ancestors were born of smoke, and grew emotionally attached to the Domestic Fae in ancient times to the point where they abandoned their animal forms to take on the Fae bodies we had now. But how did it all begin?  _How did it all begin?_

Where did evolution go so wrong? Everything happens for a reason. I didn't ask for much. Simply some sort of phylogenetic tree that would allow me to identify the point where Anti-Fairies became irreversibly tangled up in Fairy lives.

Wait a moment.  _Tangled?_

Hmm. Hadn't Clarice become tangled up with me?

You don't suppose Anti-Fairies could really be…?

"Nature spirits," I told Mona on our way to supper, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her back and forth. "Don't you see? Darling, we aren't as mortal as the Fairies at all. Are we not creatures in tune with the elements and the seasons? Is it not true that Evadne and Ione, and with them all of Anti-Fairy and Refractkind, were cast down from Plane 23 when our ancestors stole the power of the kiff-tie from the gods? Is Plane 23 not the land where Anti-Fairies originated? Mona!  _DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"_

She pushed me off, her eyes rattling about. "Eternal immortality is our immediate intention?"

"Oh, that," I said, flapping my hand. "Another day, perhaps. I suppose that theoretically it's possible to tie our life forces to temples as the nature spirits do and live on forever, but I'm more interested in studying how the spirits breed. You see, Mona, Anti-Fairies can kiff-tie either mortal to mortal, or mortal to nature spirit. We know that the spirits infallibly become pregnant when they kiff-tie with their fellow nature spirits and come apart again. Pregnancy never occurs when Anti-Fairies and nature spirits break their ties. Nonetheless, surely the missing link in my work lies somewhere in the kiff-tie. All I need to do now is find a spirit who is willing to bond their steam with my smoke. Once I can study the process myself, I'm sure I can crack this accursed puzzle at last."

"Sure? Suppose Sunnie stands solitary."

"I won't need to take Sunnie's favour if I can coax out Beira. Or if not Beira, then one of the other dozens of minor spirits whose temples lie scattered across Anti-Fairy World. Perhaps July will take me- I'm named after her, after all. I'm close, Mona. I'm  _sooo_  close. But!" I tilted back my head. "Seeing as I'm much too young to kiff-tie properly, that entire process will have to wait until I'm a little older. Let's put a pin in this discussion. For now, I'm just going to focus on my  _canetis_. Things will come together in their time, darling. It's my fate. It's decided."

You see, the problem, as it so often was, was this: I was but a child. And a child cannot breed. I feared bringing adults who could into my work, for if they did not scold me for invading their privacy, or accusing me of viewing pornographic materials underage, it was all too likely that someone in the chain of command would rob me of my due credit along the way. That was unacceptable. My proud name needed to be smeared across all that I did. I wanted to go down in history triumphant.

Sigh. How was I ever going to keep myself occupied until I came of age? I couldn't simply do nothing for the next 150,000 years or more, but breeding and reproduction were my life! If I could just make use of all my passions  _somehow_ …

Anti-Fairy World's frequent celebrations helped to distract me many a time. At the beginning of every zodiac cycle, three major events took place at the Blue Castle as we transitioned from the winter of one year to the spring of the next. Firstly, on the eve of Naming Day, the Castle hosted a tremendous party to welcome the new year, and we welcomed all Anti-Fairies across the cosmos to join us. The inns and pubs of Luna's Landing were filled up to a month and a half in advance, and you couldn't so much as poke your head through a window without risking being lost in the crowd. We held this celebration annually, regardless of whether it was a Love year or not. And most years, that was the end of the festivities. One great party to ring it in, and gradually over the following days, our visitors would collect their tourist trinkets and disperse again until next time.

But when the New Year coincided with the turn of the zodiac cycle, our festivities were always more elaborate. It was tradition. With the new cycle, a whole week would be set aside just bursting with celebrations meant to honour each zodiac spirit individually, beginning with Dayfry on the first Friday of the year. Dayfry's holiday, the Festival of Balance, was the one day someone like me, born in a Water year, was socially permitted to don purple articles of clothing. Specifically, I was permitted to wear something simple, such as a violet scarf or undershirt, and otherwise dress in black. But during the Festival of Focus, Sunnie's day, all the Water-borns clothed themselves in nothing but turquoise blue.

The morning of the last day of winter, the eve of the new year, was reserved for pups engaging in their  _canetis_  ritual. We were to prove our maturity, self-restraint, and ability to function as a team as we hunted our umbra targets. When it was all over, and after our elder kin removed the rings from our ears (or the chains from my wings), we would be sent off to change into our nightwear to signify our final day as legally-acknowledged pups. At the stroke of midnight, when the zodiac cycle began anew, we would all be called juveniles, and find ourselves allowed to participate in the festivities long after the younger pups had been led off to roost. Oh, the joy of it!

Naming Day itself always began with breads, jam, and nectar for breakfast, preserved from the last harvest. Never meat. Berries were a symbol of new beginnings, so it was only appropriate. Following breakfast, the morning would be filled with music and song honouring the Wise Ancients, sung by all the Anti-Fairies present who were without a committed partner, regardless of their age, so long as they wished to participate. Frequently, such social events would spark a lasting relationship. If nothing else, dozens or even hundreds of juveniles would steal their first kiss with a stranger, and be coaxed into doting over their little "spring fling" for the remainder of the year's festivities. If I hadn't met Mona, that surely would have been my destiny, and frankly it terrified me. How could anyone hand themselves over so casually to blind fate, trying to compete and woo under such unsettling conditions? So much better to accept the match chosen for you by Tarrow himself. For those who had that option, anyway.

Neither Mother nor Augustus had precisely pulled me inside to explain the purpose of the day's emphasis on social activities, but we pups had pieced together the basics over the years: For many, this was a time for the adults to flirt and bond beyond the ties of marriage with strangers they likely wouldn't see for another seven years, if ever again at all. Depending on which day Naming Day fell, the Festival of Balance might not begin for nearly a week, therefore lengthening the stay of visitors and making it desirable to find a compatible and willing partner sooner rather than later so both might enjoy one another's company for the maximum length of time.

Knowing what I knew about the way Fairies looked down on us for our "free-for-all mating sessions", as they so put it, I wasn't sure what I thought about that practice now. Technically, as a noble with the power to spread my coloured eyes through intimate bonds, such activities were intended to be off limits for me to some degree even when I was older. There were loopholes that could be found around it, matters of proper protection and such, and kissing was never forbidden, but… as it stood presently, I hadn't yet determined what my own views concerning the matter of impersonal relations was. I believe I'm a passionate advocate of true love myself. After all, it seems a mite strange, doesn't it? To find a stranger physically alluring when you've only just begun to learn what makes their brain tick?

I had difficulty imagining myself in such a predicament, and in fact the very idea of trying to make such a decision at this young age made me quite nauseous with nerves. That was Anti-Cosmo's decision to make, not young Julius'. I hadn't even given myself to Mona yet. We hadn't even kissed. Let's start there, hmm?

The celebrations of the Love year always drew in the highest numbers of Anti-Fairies. The homeostasis specialists would pause from their Temple studies and pay us a visit too. Someday, I'd be among them, trailing around in my acolyte robes with my satchel bulging from scrolls, herbs, building and monument design ideas, measuring materials, or whatever else they kept in there…

Such acolytes were always given a respectful berth when they came out in public; not merely out of awe and admiration, I imagine, but also out of lingering fear for the demons who trailed like little obedient servants at their heels. "Demons", I had finally learned, was the proper term for umbrae who had consumed so much negative karma that they had actually taken on solid, visible form. Only homeostasis specialists, masters of karma flow, were trained in handling demons. I did have to admit, every seven years when I saw the acolytes, they appeared peaceful and happy with their lot in life. Perhaps I wouldn't hate living as they did after all.

In the afternoon, we had our Tarrow dances. This was an event of thanksgiving in which we honoured the Seven for their influence in our lives, and in which all the nobles from the Blue Castle and visiting colonies were expected to perform. My coloured eyes had always guaranteed Mona and I a sure spot in the courtyard. We would be out there alongside six other couples approximately our age, and I hadn't yet decided if that soothed or increased my nerves. Tarrow performances could last for hours depending on the number of colonies attending the Blue Castle that year, always beginning with the youngest noble juveniles and finishing with the High Count and Countess themselves.

Up until now, I'd mainly watched from the crowd with Mona and Ashley. Neither Augustus nor Caden had ever been betrothed, but they were noble irises, so they were always assigned to dance together. Privately, I'd always admired Caden most of all. With his black hair and shiny fangs, all wrapped in stunning royal purple, he resembled a comet in the night sky beside my awkward, drabber brother. The way in which he flowed was graceful, emphasising the anti-will o' the wisp in his lineage in all the right ways without portraying him as crude or ashamed of who he was. Gods, what a beautiful drake. I just hoped I could manage half as well as him once all the attention was on me.

Those who did have betrothed or married partners, and were not of noble ties or noble partners, were not permitted to Tarrow dance on Naming Day. Nor did they engage in much singing. Rather, the commonfolk were given time to mingle with the crowds, or craft offerings to be delivered to the spirits of their choice. There were competitions for things like that, and always food to be prepared, children to be entertained, or social connections to be made. Always social connections. Anything that might kindle a romantic spark.

Finally, Naming Day evening, the very young pups would step out to the rear garden in anticipation as Anti-Buster brought out the white chest containing the betrothal rings in all their neat little bundles. With the candles and lanterns blown out, the scramble would begin. Relationships would make or hopeful hearts break. And after that, everyone from the Blue Castle colony would step inside to have a delightful dinner, whilst the foreigners enjoyed a picnic feast in the courtyard outside.

This particular year, I was due to turn 47 come autumn. Technically my litter had been birthed in summer, but autumn was when my smoke and body first met. Although the Fairies called it simply  _Mid-Summer_ , I was birthed during a segment of time we Anti-Fairies tentatively knew as  _July_ , after the minor nature spirit of the same name, a middle daughter of Winni and Thurmondo. As a matter of fact, the name Julius came from "July", and Augustus took his from "August." Mum says that if I were a damsel, she would have named me Julia, and he would have been Augustine, and that if she ever had another child, she would name him Frank.

There were twelve minor spirits we knew as the spirits of the months. The most famous two of all were April and May, although we mostly called May the Easter Bunny now. Winni and Thurmondo had all twelve spirits of the months, except for February. For eons, there were only eleven months known to the ancient Fae. But Thurmondo had his son February with Sunnie one year when his winter form snuck away in an attempt to escape Winni's lustful clutches. When they kiff-tied and Sunnie took Thurmondo's favour, wearing the Leaves circlet as a noble crown upon his head, Sunnie became the Prince of Dew: the greatest mastermind who ever lived! With his power of rainstorms and undergrowth, he destroyed a thousand cities belonging to the indigenous peoples of Fairy World who had restricted our ancestors' growth when we arrived to rightfully claim this cloudland colony. The Prince of Dew overtook the wrecked stone buildings instantly with roots and vines, crafting the most beautiful tombs and ruins and dealing just punishment to those who dared defile the spirits' promised land for us with their secular ways. Plane 12, the Hush World, was said to still carry a haunted feel about it to this day. Of course, I wasn't allowed to go there until I turned 200,000, but I'd heard that every part of it was purple and ethereal, dripping with starlight, and that monuments to the Prince of Dew could still be found carved into the upside-down mountains dangling from the High Kingdom. He was absolutely dazzling. A noble knight striking a blow for his people. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.

… But the Prince of Dew's brief reign ended when Thurmondo broke the kiff-tie by force, wrenching back his favoured crown. February, a spirit of dew, pride, and honour, was born when they split apart. But Thurmondo was so ashamed by what Sunnie had used his Leaves powers for that he sobbed and sobbed until Winni found him and agreed to take him back. And Winni wasn't happy about Thurmondo running away. Thurmondo had to be punished. That's why he was cursed to lose his memories every winter, for his misdeed in trying to alter his fate of being Winni's lover, and father to all the oxygen spirits they create each time they bond. It was for us that Thurmondo endured Winni's passions, and Winni expected him to do it without complaint or struggle. You probably didn't know all that. I did. I'm a very smart pup.

Not a pup for much longer, however. This was my cohort's 7th Love year, and 49th year in total. The day of our  _canetis_  had arrived at last. After all my peers had feasted on the final breakfast they would eat in the Winter of the Twisting Ivy, and had left to chatter excitedly out in the courtyard for the following hour, I kept in my study for one last, lingering moment so I might visit with my father's blessing tokens. I lined all seven crystal animals up in a row on the little shelf I'd installed in the wall with my clumsy magic, and folded my hands in my lap with a sigh as I knelt before them.

My mother and brother would each take part in removing the chains from my wings. I still wished Anti-Robin could have been here to witness his youngest son reach juvenile age. But at least I had the family that I did. Anti-Buster would be unclipping the rings from Ashley's ears.

I stroked my hand up to the tip of my left one, where the jagged cuts I'd made as a newborn while slicing the rings from my ears still remained to this day. I smiled. Alas, foolish Julius. For here I was now nearly fifty years later, on the day they ought to have been removed. I could have been flying with wings unrestrained all this time had I only exercised a little self-restraint. I was older now, wiser now, more thoughtful and patient now. I'd come such a long way.

But it stung me to think Anti-Robin had only ever known me as a reckless, trouble-making miscreant who ravaged his spice cabinet and knocked sacks of precious flour onto the floor. How many times had I sneered down at him from the shelves, and he sighed up at me and shook his head, without the thought in either of our minds that we might be related? If only Augustus had let us know.

Did I still hold that against him? I liked to think not, but knew my scars would never truly heal.

Augustus had warned me in this same storeroom long ago that when using Father's blessing tokens, I ought to only call upon one zodiac spirit at a time. Which of the Seven would aid me most during my  _canetis_? It was meant to be a hunting ceremony, but none of them held mastery over hunting. The closest was perhaps Saturn, the calculating dragon warrior of the gods, and who when acting as the Prince of Lightning in sacred combination with Munn became the ravager of worlds and defender of the skies.

I stared down at Saturn's ruby lizard, with its spiralled tail and arched back. But instead of turning it over, I decided to turn over Sunnie's turtle. In addition to what he was usually called upon for - study and learning, especially towards the end of the school year - Sunnie also held mastery over agility. Speed fell under Munn's godly jurisdiction, but Sunnie was elegance and river strength personified. Agility would be a welcome gift today.

That, and he was of course the Water spirit. Perhaps, since I was born in a Water year myself, he would be especially willing to extend a bit of aid my way. Not to mention, February was his daughter. He might be more inclined to listen to his people this month than in others. I kissed my thumb and rubbed it along the turtle's belly, and left one candle burning on the shelf when I shut the door behind me.

"I do hope this won't take long," I commented to Mona outside, folding my hands together low behind my back. "I happened to be right in the middle of researching something."

She lowered our map and glanced back at my weighed-down wings, studying them quite intently for someone who had just seen them two weeks prior. "Feeling fine, friend? For Friday, we're finally flying free. Forever."

"Yes, yes." I rolled my eyes and took the map from her hands. Of course I was excited. That wasn't the point of my complaint. "I shall delight in having these ghastly restraints taken away from me. Even so, I'll be limping on my right for the rest of my life, I swear."

Winslow sat on the ashy ground near us, his legs plopped out to either side and his hands set in the middle. I shook my head. It was hard to believe that our prince's cohort would be experiencing their own  _canetis_  as soon as next cycle. The little ball of scruffy fur had wings too big for his body and ears too small for his head. He had to wear his adorably floppy hat at all times, as anti-swanee custom dictated. Anti-Bryndin was the dominant anti-swanee in the colony, so he alone was allowed to expose his horns. I wondered what young anti-swanees did after their  _canetis_  rituals. Would Winslow cut holes in his hat so his ears could poke through, or since he wore the hat, was he expected to always keep his ears flattened when Anti-Bryndin was around?

Mona recaptured my attention with a nudge. "Terrified of treacherous teammates tripping up? Must make a meaningful mark mastering my many mounting major masterpieces."

"Oh, I don't know. I do so love working in teams. There's always someone else I can put the blame on." I searched the courtyard, craning my neck. "I say. Are those your mums over there coming this way?"

She followed my gaze, then began jumping up and down, crossing and uncrossing her arms above her head as she waved at two Anti-Fairy damsels sliding through the small sideline crowd of proud parents. I waved too, albeit in the more gentlemanly fashion expected of me. How strange to think that technically, Mona had been living in the Castle alongside me far longer than she'd stayed with either of them. Her mums paid her visits as often as they could between Anti-Penny's acolyte duties and Anti-Dixie's orchard-tending hours, and on occasion Mona would leave the Castle to spend a month or so at the Water Temple in Faeheim with them too. But that was perhaps the first time I realised that I might know more about Mona than either of her parents did these days. Automatically, I reached out and intertwined my fingers with hers. It was a curious thought, a protective thought. I supposed that must be what it was like to have a wife.

It would be nice to have a wife to know secret things about and feel protective towards, I think.

Anti-Dixie tipped her crown to Mona with her thumb as she floated up to us. "Howdy, sugar. You ready to round up them wily, dunderheaded demons in the woods today?"

"Perfectly prepped and practically passionate."

"Spiffy. Streak straight like a sharpshooter and you're sure to soar."

Mona beamed at the comforting sound of alliteration and hugged Anti-Dixie around the waist. Chuckling, Anti-Dixie pushed Mona's crown into her head and rubbed it back and forth.

"Aw, shucks. My baby cowgirl ain't such a li'l tyke anymore. I'mma gonna be honking my nose over this for days." She wiped away a tear. "Be good, honeypie."

 _"Toi aussi, mon beau-fils."_ Anti-Penny reached down to embrace me, kissing me once on each cheek. "You take care of _mon petit chou_ , and we shall hope to see you both cross that finish line before midnight comes,  _oui?_ "

"Were any of the demons that were released out there today tamed by  _you_?" I asked her.

Her scarlet eyes twinkled mysteriously. "Ah, my otter types do enjoy the water."

"Thank you for the tip."

We bid them both farewell, and they moved off again. But Anti-Bryndin still hadn't arrived to conduct the ceremony. Conducting the  _canetis_  was the High Count's job, in the same way Anti-Elina tended to take the lead during the betrothal ceremony in the gardens. Winslow sat quietly near Mona and I, and Anti-Elina wasn't far off as she scolded two pups down the row for fighting, but where was Anti-Bryndin?

As we continued waiting, Augustus took the opportunity to slip up to us. Even after all these years, he still wore those  _canetis_  rings, and for an instant I was almost embarrassed to let myself be seen with him in front of the whole crowd. I looked away, but he kept coming.

"Let me s-see your sh-shirt, Julius."

He meant because it wasn't on inside-out for good karma. He wanted to pull it off me and expose me naked for a moment - in front of  _everybody_  - while he flipped it around for me. Him and his inside jokes. I pushed him away, backing into Mona. My fingers clenched around the rolled-up map of the woods. "The state of my tunic will remain as presently constituted, actually. Thank you."

A flicker of hurt crossed Augustus' expression. He withdrew his hands, then tried again. "At l-least may I l-look at your map s-so I know w-where-"

"Stop," I protested, twisting out of his grasp. "I can do it myself, you hack!"

"I'm just t-t-trying to help-"

I pushed him away with my lifted shoulder. "I don't need your  _help_ , Augustus."

"I j-just want-"

"In fact, I daresay I'd be better off without it. After all, you never did manage to pass your own  _canetis_. Why should I expect you to benefit me when it comes to mine?"

Augustus ducked his head. "I underst-st-stand, but-"

"Why, you might even sabotage me," I sneered. "I wouldn't put it past you. You were so jealous to share your own father, I'd be astounded if you didn't have your own interests at heart here instead of mine."

His eyes sharpened, and almost made me choke on the last word. "I've p-p-protected you for almost f-fifty years. I'm the one who g-got you out of the A-Anti-Eros t-t-tower."

"Ha! And I saved a hundred more souls than you by breaking their jars, all within minutes of being born! Why, if you'd kept at your goody-goody ways without a streak of rebelliousness in the way you swung your sack that final day, you'd have been dragged off and punished, and my lifesmoke would have been left to perish. It's always because I've broken rules or tradition in some form or another that I had the opportunity to enjoy experiences in Fairy World, and enjoy forty years of researching as I have. Following rules to the letter does nothing for no one, I say. Who needs your moral standards?"

"Papa does," he snapped back, fur prickling behind his shoulders. "Th-this is exactly why I d-didn't want to share him with you. Papa n-never called me goody-goody like i-it was an insult. I-it was his s-special name f-for me, and he n-never mocked me for f-following the r-rules and trying to keep out of t-trouble. You s-s-sound j-just like Mother, Julius. Perhaps you'd r-rather I left you w-with her."

I rolled my eyes. "As though you're brave enough to ever stand up to her abusive ways and walk out of this Castle. Face it, dear Augustus. Those rings in your ears aren't the only thing that's keeping you prisoner here."

Augustus puffed his cheeks. "Being a c-coward isn't why I've st-stayed," he said. He looked at me coolly, calculating something with his pale green gaze, and then spun around on one foot. Chin up, he stalked off without saying another word, occasionally brushing his hand across his cheeks as he went. Upon reaching the babbling crowd, he was swallowed up in them.

Mona placed her hand on my elbow. "Kindness is contagious."

I sighed and brushed at my tunic. "I suppose I was needlessly harsh with him just now, wasn't I? I almost don't know what came over me. Oh, wait. Yes I do. He's a snivelling sycophant who was lured into bringing me back to the Castle as a newborn when really he ought to have run away. I know now he had a place to go. He ought to have brought me to Anti-Fergus Anti-Whimsifinado, far away from my mother's abusive hand. Anti-Robin could have visited us there, and they would have been the family that I needed. A healthy family, not like this."

"Missed meeting me," she pointed out, softly. When I turned my irritated glance on her, she looked away. "Betrothal benefits."

I picked a bit of crusty goop or dirt from under my left eye with a claw. "Yes, well. I suppose this wasn't the proper time to go off on him for it. I'm so nervous, you know, about passing my  _canetis_. I say, if I don't get to fly today, I think I should have the greatest fit of my life. Hm. I'll apologise to him tonight, once the new cohort are busy hunting down their potential betrothed in the gardens."

I bounced the rolled map against my palm as Anti-Bryndin made his appearance at last over by the courtyard gate. He greeted us all with enthusiasm and went about dividing up the teams. Mona and I, being betrothed, had our partnership assured, but I didn't know the drake and three damsels who also ended up in our group. They introduced themselves as Daniel, Trish, Demetria, and Lacy, born in the Breath, Fire, Breath, and Sky years respectively. I hit it off with Trish instantly, her calm patience evident within the first few seconds I knew her, though her bouncy betrothed Lacy seemed likewise a delight. Daniel was colder, but he greeted me with a polite nod before turning his attention on Mona. I wrapped my fingers through hers, keeping my steady attention on his cheek.

"Right," Trish said, opening her copy of the map. "As I understand it, everything between here and the Love Temple is within the field of play. Our job, Lacy?"

"Capture a demon and bring it across the finish line in Luna's Landing."

"That's right. Now." She looked around at our faces. "I have four older siblings. I've done the research, and I think I have a master plan here that can lead us to victory. Time and time again, the foolish teams are the ones who chase after the first demon they see, and are so tired out by the time they corner it that they can't drag it to the finish line while it's still struggling. So, what we want to do is get as close to the finish line as we can, and then hunt for our target. But, we also have to ensure that the one we go after isn't too large or difficult to handle." Trish pointed the map at me. "You two will be our fronters."

"Um…" I looked at Mona, biting my lip. She gave me an encouraging hand squeeze, so I swallowed. "Actually, I'm Anti-Penny's homeostasis apprentice. She's a Water year, like me. I never, um, actually learned field combat in practice. At least not in great detail."

Trish stared at me. "You're pulling my ears. They put a demon tamer on our team? Why? You're not even trained yet. I had everything all planned out for us to fight it."

I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. She noticed the chains.

"… Well. Then. I think our best strategy is to get to Luna's Landing as a team and search for a worthy demon from there. But you know the rules. No wands. We can't  _poof_. And apparently, Julius can't even fly."

"I can echolocate," I pointed out, determined to fight the trembling in my legs.

Trish frowned. "So what? We're not tracking umbrae anymore. These are real, actual demons, like the kind that grow solid and attack people if they let bad karma sit in their houses too long without dispersing it. You don't need to echolocate to see them. So, here's how we're going to do it. Lacy, you and me will fly ahead to Luna's Landing as fast as we can and scout the area for the demon we want to capture. Daniel, Demetria, and Mona, you guys come too, but make sure you save your strength for when we have to fight it. We just need to tire it out enough so we can carry it to the Temple steps. Julius, I guess you'll have to walk." Again, she glanced critically at my chained wings. "I expect you're going to be quite tired when you show up. Try not to get in our way."

I looked at Mona. She looked at Trish. "I'm just joining Julius," she said firmly.

Trish looked at me one more time, to let me know that this was all my fault. To her credit, she didn't argue, but just grabbed Lacy by the hand and pulled her over to the front of the Castle courtyard. Daniel and Demetria followed, and Mona and I brought up the rear.

"I'm sorry," I told her.

Mona shook her head.

"I am, though. I ought to have spent more time studying the combat practices than I spent with my research." Or hanging limply from my roost doing nothing but sit during the months when my energy levels ran at an all-time low.

Mona shook her head again. "Prioritise precious pups. Future fatherhood follows."

Dear, sweet Mona. She always understood me. How loyal and faithful she was, desiring to bear no drake's pups but mine. She never doubted I could do it, or ever questioned if I imagined my research might fail. On most days I forgot that Tarrow didn't have a hand in bringing her to me, such is how perfect a match we were for one another.

The crowd in the courtyard consisted namely of excited parents and other extended relatives. They whispered amongst each other as Anti-Bryndin prepared to open the courtyard gate. Shortly after we pups all took off, the majority would  _foop_  themselves to the designated observation zones throughout Luna's Landing to enjoy a pleasant brunch and chat with one another while waiting for us all to rush the finish line. I closed my eyes at the thought of Trish leading the way… She wouldn't dare approach the Love Temple without Mona and I, would she? If we didn't cross before the time of night when the stars began to dim, then we wouldn't be allowed another attempt at our  _canetis_  ritual until next zodiac cycle. Fail too many times and, like my brother, you'd end up blacklisted as a hopeless cause. And no one would ever want you then.

Anti-Bryndin called us all to attention, and dedicated the traditional  _canetis_  invocation prayer to the spirit bear, Hy-Brasil, whose form we walked upon and were honouring this day. Then he and Anti-Elina exchanged nods. Winslow lingered near them, sucking as he often did at the claw on his pinky. In unison, the High Count and High Countess heaved the doors of the foggilite gate inward. The courtyard was open. Anti-Bryndin pointed his wand into the sky, and fired a blast of purple. It flowered among the stars.

The race was on.

* * *

 **A/N**  - Vatajasa is mainly a mashup of Latin and Estonian words I picked out of Google Translate and squished together (with some random tweaks sprinkled on top) because that's how I live my life. Foop's alternate personality, Hiccup, identifies as Far Westian and can speak Vatajasa fluently even though Foop can't. We'll see him do so for the first time in my upcoming 130 Prompt one-shot, "Shadow". Keep an eye out for that very soon if you're interested in seeing more Anti-Fairy culture and culinary practices. Also,  _canetis_  is the Latin word for  _sound_.


	13. Snake Eyes

_In which Julius participates in his_ canetis  _ritual on the final day of the Winter of the Twisted Ivy, and encounters a young dame who is positively soaked_

* * *

Beyond the courtyard gate, Mona and I lost sight of Trish and Lacy almost at once. We kept up with Daniel and Demetria almost to the edge of the woods, despite the shoving, squirming throng all stampeding in that direction. A few of our peers dared to travel by wing, although many more weren't brave enough to challenge the skies without the aid of echolocation. Trish didn't seem to know that fear; I could only assume she'd memorised her route from decades of careful map study. It sounded like something she would do. She came from the Anti-Twigfall colony, after all, and they were notorious for being a pompous and pernickety lot. Her family had likely taught her that failing her  _canetis_  was  _not an option_ , for the shame it brought upon them would be insurmountable.

"This way," I told Mona, veering farther to the right than most of our noisy travelling party. "The course they're on will drive them into the more tangled areas of underbrush, while I happen to have familiarised myself with the more barren running paths I've traversed when my energy levels are bursting at the seams. Good smoke, I wish I felt such an urge to run right now. At least Luna's Landing is only a short way's down the road."

Mona jumped on top of a mossy rock and off again, as opposed to hurtling the whole thing as I did. "Perhaps we should put preparation into practicing pacing?"

"Hmm?"

"You flee fairly fast," she explained when I paused on a knoll. "Exhausting energy in earnest."

I surveyed the ditch cutting across my path, rather put off by the terrible quiet of the bare-leaved forest. Our noisy peers had scared what few woodland creatures we had into hiding, and my ears couldn't pick up so much as the burbling of a stream. "Well, I am inclined to reach Luna's Landing as soon as absolutely possible, darling. I should hate for Trish and the others to take down a demon and cross the finish line without us."

"She shouldn't! Seriously?"

I skidded down the ditch and opened my mouth to answer Mona. Before I could, a snap of short spikes plunged into the back of my neck, aiming down along my spine. By the time I processed they were there, I had been flipped on my head and rolled further along the ditch. My churning stomach hit a scaly coil. My wings bunched against my back as something crushed them close in a way they weren't meant to bend.

Then the pain kicked in. Fangs? Were those fangs? Maybe not  _fangs_  per se - there were so many of them - but teeth, yes. My body flooded with a storm of heat. When I blinked a few times and realised my limbs were pinned to my side, I could recognise the long, orange body of a glider snake glimmering in the embers.

"No, no, no! I'm much too brilliant to die so young, especially like this. Help! Help!"

Every time I opened my mouth to scream, its coils tightened around my midsection. I heard my ribs splinter before I felt them. My arms and legs went limp as bones cracked.

"Julius?" Mona called from higher ground.

The teeth didn't leave the back of my neck, but the snake's thin tongue flickered about my ears. Everywhere it caressed, my neck and back flared with boiling heat as though they'd been touched by Ghostfire.

"Help," I squeaked in the end. My angle was slanted, so I saw a lot more dirt than sun. With every passing second, I became more and more convinced that I had wet myself. "Help. Oh gods, help."

Mona skidded down the slope, kicking up a burst of dust. "You're feeling fine," she called. "You can't croak. Keep cool. I'll really rush to your rescue."

I wriggled my fingers in her direction. My arm was still pinned, and thoroughly broken, but at least the fingers moved. "It bit me- I think I've been poisoned."

"Can't. It constricts. It's very venomless."

"It bit me," I stubbornly repeated in a whisper as the snake tightened its coils.

Mona shook her head. "Biting behaviour begins because big bullies bother both bending-"

"Mona. Now is not the time." The hooked teeth slid out of my neck. I only knew this because the snake's head appeared in front of me, upside-down. Or perhaps I was the one who was upside-down. Its eyes were the hard, distant eyes of an animal taking no thought in this event except that it wanted to stay alive. I watched with raised eyebrows as it dropped open its lower jaw and began pushing me into its mouth.

"It's vacant of venom," Mona went on. "Each icky inchworm has inrita embedded in its spit. Its inrita ends intense magic. Painful 'inrita poison' paralyses, perhaps, but that's a partial plan. The taught term is entirely 'inrita'. 'Poison' isn't part."

"Really?" I drawled, thinking that perhaps I needed a simpler-minded life partner. By this point, the coils around my limbs had dropped. My entire body was inside the snake's mouth. Every wet surface sent my nerves screaming with pain, but the most I could do to fight it was squirm my hands and feet as I began oozing headfirst down the warm, red throat. "That's very interesting, and also  _very unhelpful right now!_  Can we please focus on getting me out of the giant snake?"

"'Giant'. That's generous. You're just generally-"

 _"Mona!_ "

She sighed. "Super sorry. Sit straight, stomach slider. I'll hail help."

I swallowed. Cruel word, by the way… swallowing as you're being swallowed. The snake's throat closed around me, squishing and squelching and crushing until even my shoulders were stiff. Rippling muscles dragged me deeper. I was a worm in a hole, a snake in a snake, with no hands to stretch in front of me to slow my descent.

Not that it was even a hasty process. Each centimetre I progressed felt agonising. As the snake's throat tightened, my body blocked the light and plunged me into blackness. Inrita stung my eyes until the tears were no longer from stress. I continued crying anyway. At first I opened my mouth to do so, but the inrita filled it and made my tongue sting. My gums burned. Even my hard teeth ached. Echolocation was useless and rang too loudly in my flattening ears. After that, I suffered in silence. When my throat ached and there was no one but the snake to hear, what was the point?

I was never going to pass my  _canetis_ now.

Abruptly, my centre of gravity changed. My stomach twisted. I tilted so my head was pointing upwards again, and my feet to the ground. Even in the dark, I sensed the tunnel clench shut ahead of me. Then the clench moved until it was right in front of my nose. Then it kept moving, forcing me back. In a few swift sweeps, I had moved backwards along the snake's throat, whereupon I fell from its mouth and plopped to the cinders. Limp, suffering, but alive.

I lifted my eyes to find Anti-Bryndin holding the snake with both hands behind its head. Mona dangled by her claws from the lower jaw. When she saw I'd dropped out, she let go.

"Him! I mean, them! Hey. How's it hanging?"

"I can't move my limbs," I said, not moving my limbs for the moment. "Ooh. Talking hurts."

Anti-Bryndin still held the writhing snake in his claws. He brought it to his open mouth, clearly about to bite it (perhaps so he might expose and drink of its karmic weave)… and yet he changed his mind. He lowered the snake to his waist again, clinging to it with one hand. He rubbed the button on his scarf in an unhappy way.

After a minute spent paralysed, and with Mona's help, I managed to sit up. Oof. Oof. Everything burned. My bones would rapidly heal, but for now, they seared with stabbing pains. I pressed my hand against my chest and swallowed again. "I say! That nasty creature nearly ate me up."

"Yuck." Mona twisted around, straining to get a better look at the orange thing. While she did, I became uncomfortably aware of the wetness between my legs, and hoped she wouldn't notice.

Anti-Bryndin replaced the snake on the ground and gave its head a pat. It returned this gesture with a disgruntled look before turning and creeping off into the undergrowth. He watched it go with his hands braced on his knees. "Yes. You pups are small, and you need to watch for snakes. But, they will let you go sometimes. Anti-Fairies are hard prey to eat. Gliders like to squeeze food until it does not breathe. Because Anti-Fairies breathe when Fairies breathe, and they can use magic and change their shape, gliders learned to eat us fast so the inrita in their mouths makes our bodies stop for a small time. When prey is weak, they eat. They only bring weak prey inside their mouths."

"Oh, brilliant," I said sarcastically. The hair sticking in my eyes was damp with the goop of the glider's throat. My limbs were still paralyzed enough that I decided against the effort of brushing it away. Tutting his tongue, Anti-Bryndin scooped me into his arms. I cried out at his grip. He noticed. Before I could stop him, he pulled off my tunic to observe for injury, and stopped.

"?"

I covered my leg with my hands. He held me away from his body, looking me up and down.

"Julius? The snake broke your ribs. Why are you not screaming out of pain? Oh," he realised. "Your body is bitten by frost. You are part numb. Your fur was already dark and sick, and I did not notice the purple until now. Why did Sunnie bite you with cold?"

I clenched my teeth. "'Tis the season for it, Anti-Bryndin."

"Have you chosen to roost alone without very padded garments? You should roost with roostmates. Hy-Brasil is too damp and cold for Anti-Fairies when they roost alone." Anti-Bryndin shook his head. "I will take you to the Breath Temple now, so you may bathe in Winni's healing fountain and he may bless you. The injury is severe. Maybe too severe for my healing Breath kiss. We will force regeneration on you so you will be reborn of new smoke that Sunnie did not bite, and which the snake did not break."

My core flared so strongly in my head, it nearly forced the lid of my forehead chamber open. I'd never had to go to the Breath Temple before, and frankly, the thought of regeneration terrified me the way some of my peers feared dragons. Especially with Clarice in the picture. I didn't even want to know what dying might do to our intertwined souls. Would she steal control of my body and leave me the one trapped in the unconsciousness of my brain? I kicked my legs.  _"No!_ Please let me finish my  _canetis_ , High Count. Please! I have to rid myself of these chains. Please don't take me to the Breath Temple right now. I don't want to go!"

"But your ribs have broken?"

"I don't care! I want to finish my  _canetis_!"

"… I will let you finish it, yes. This injury is bad, though. I will take you to the Temple tonight, when the  _canetis_  is done. We will regenerate you. It will hurt you, but this is not good."

That bought me time, at least. I'd have to think up a clever way to wriggle out of that Temple visit later. Anti-Bryndin put me down on my feet again. Exhaling, struggling against the shriek of broken bones, I turned to Mona. "Phew. That was a wee bit of a nasty shock, I do say. Hmm. What do you think would have happened if that snake had succeeded in swallowing me? Anti-Fairies can't die. Do you think, perhaps, that I'd come out its other end intact?"

"Ew." She pushed me off with her hand. "Maybe many multitudes might manifest in slimy snake stomachs, regenerating rapidly and repeatedly for remaining races."

I grinned, even though the muscles in my face ached when I did. "Ooh, that is worse, isn't it?"

Anti-Bryndin patted Mona's head beneath her crown. "Mona has the right thought. Anti-Fairies eaten by large animals are stuck inside. They become smoke with death and then regenerate with fresh life, many times. Inrita is bad for Fairy opposites. Small touches drain magic. This is how Fairies die. Anti-Fairies will not die from it, but there are many screams of pain. Inrita over the whole Anti-Fairy body will make the honey-lock without power. An Anti-Fairy inside a glider snake with inrita could not get out even with the power of honey-locking. This is how an Anti-Fairy is trapped."

When he said that, I stiffened. "Wait a moment. Did you just mention the honey-lock? As in" - I held up my hands, prepared to use them as puppets to demonstrate my thought process - "when Anti-Fairies are stricken by the forces of the universe to mate with their counterpart's mate's counterpart, so that they may produce pups appropriately and all genetic relations between our counterparts may remain balanced and stable?  _That_  honey-lock, yes? The same honey-lock that holds the universe's ultimate power over the servants of homeostasis such as ourselves? Do you mean to imply that  _that_  response can be prevented by dousing oneself in inrita? And the universe can do nothing to force an Anti-Fairy bathed in inrita to mate against their wishes, try though she may? Are you quite certain? That's not what I've always heard."

Anti-Bryndin looked at me in some surprise, but nodded. "The honey-lock is the most powerful thing, except for one thing. Inrita is the poison of dust and smoke. So much inrita will quiet the locking part of the honey-lock. The Anti-Fairy changes colour to their iris colour, but does not have the magic to fly, fight, or lock."

"Really now…" I turned and followed the trail of the departing snake with my eyes. I touched my fingers to my lips. "No honey-lock. How interesting."

Anti-Bryndin moved his attention in the same direction as mine. Then he wrapped his hand around my shoulder. "Julius, inrita is the worst pain. Glider snakes are not for playing. They are the worst predator to Anti-Fairies. It was your fate to escape the snake today. This snake was a wee, wee babe. This was the inrita on you of a gilder snake pup. If the snake was wide, inrita would swallow you with much pain. We could not get you out unless it was dead. This death would take many years, or may be the end of Julius forever. Be careful of big snakes. Inrita is the strongest thing. Is this okay?"

"We'll be careful," I promised, still staring. Contact with inrita blocked the effects of the honey-lock. So there  _was_  a weakness to its alleged "universal law" powers after all. Perhaps I'd been focusing my reproductive system studies in the wrong direction all this time.

Anti-Bryndin tightened his claws into my shoulder. Startled, I faced him head-on. His fingers were latched around the yellow button on his crocheted scarf: Winni's favour.

"Julius. You should not chase the snakes. Not now. Not ever. Unless you are attacked by a snake, you should not fight snakes. Is this okay?"

I hesitated. Then bowed my head. "Yes, High Count."

His eyes softened. Taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. A shock of cold tore down my spine, flaring my wings. Instantaneously, I knew  _exactly_  why Anti-Bryndin was forbidding me from entangling myself in the up-close studies of glider snakes. Such enormous serpents had devoured so many Anti-Fairies over the years; it was for reasons like these that we didn't brave the High Kingdom lands where the Fairy Refracts staked their claim, for they held mastery over the tamed prairies, and would have left us with nothing but the areas riddled with gliders large enough to swallow Fairy World houses.

The scathing memory of inrita paralysing my limbs and tearing the molecules of my skin apart, over and over in endless waves, crashed down on my shoulders. I wrenched away from him, clutching my hand to my chest and gasping hard. Gods! The pain lasted for only a quarter of a second, and it had already faded now. But the burn had seared across my mind, and it weakened the muscles in my knees. Anti-Bryndin didn't want that horrific suffering to be part of my fate. He was just trying to keep me safe.

Oh, gods. Could all that absolute pain really have befallen me if I'd been snapped up by a snake who wasn't a mere pup itself? I didn't want to see another glider ever again for as long as I lived!

I pressed the heel of my hand to my temple, blinking and shuddering still. "Wha-? What the-? Good glory!"

"No snakes," Anti-Bryndin reminded me, pulling back. He didn't seem at all ashamed at what he'd done in kissing me. It wasn't an intimate act, but something akin to a ritual, as naturally as he had greeted the creche fathers who brought their own colonies up to Luna's Landing for the New Year holidays.

Slowly, my eyes moved from his mouth to his scarf button, which he was no longer fingering. Anti-Bryndin had carried that favour longer than I'd been alive. It marked him as a man who had given himself so wholly to the nature spirit of Breath, Winni, within the deepest chamber of the Breath Temple, neither held anything back from the other. Anti-Bryndin had, in a sense, raised a sacred knife to the karmic pouch on the left side of his neck and not merely torn loose his karmic weave, but taken his own life completely. Of course, with few exceptions, so long as their hosting counterparts lived on, Anti-Fairies could not die. He had simply burst into smoke.

In perfect tandem, he and Winni himself had allowed raw Anti-Fairy smoke and nature spirit steam particles to blend together during the regeneration process until they shared blood and bone without distinction, and Anti-Bryndin's body reformed, with Winni alive and thriving beneath his skin like a second core. Anti-Elina and Thurmondo had done much the same within the echo chamber of the Leaves Temple, and so had many who held seats on the camarilla court. Such an act was known as kiff-tying, the most reverent whisper to leave a mortal's lips. Anti-Bryndin was chosen of the spirits to lead us as High Count, as all the Anti-Coppertalon line back to the days of Anti-Shylinda and Anti-Kahnii were, and no one could ever argue against that.

And you know, come to think of it, I stroked Anti-Robin's blessing tokens in a very similar way when I was calling upon the influence of the Seven in my life. Winni was the nature spirit who held mastery over Breath, Communication, health, remedies, teaching, sewing, rest, and self-care. What exactly had Anti-Bryndin wanted to call upon him for when rubbing his button just now?

And hadn't I… seen him hold and kiss… both my mother… and Anti-Elina… this… exact… way… before…?

Mona inadvertently broke off my train of thought. Anti-Bryndin's comment of Anti-Fairies ending up trapped inside a large predator had left her shivering. Now, she tugged the sleeves of her amauti over her hands and pushed me again. "Come quick. We can catch our crew."

"… Yes. Yes, we should go." I cleared my throat. "Thank you dearly for the rescue, Anti-Bryndin," I called, waving back at him as the pair of us scampered off. He watched us in detached silence, running the twists of yarn on his scarf through his claws until we couldn't see him anymore.

While Mona skimmed above me, searching from the air, I scanned the ground with eyes and ears. We were so far behind the others now, and I didn't really anticipate any of the released demons to be left lying in our path, even if they were tamed. We couldn't travel quickly. Even when I tried to force myself onward, my ribs gave me some discomfort. They would heal within a few days or weeks, and sooner if I didn't run. But oh, I wanted to.

"There!" I shouted up to Mona as our march to Luna's Landing drew to its end. Heavy chains on my wings or not, squeezing pain or not, less energetic mood or not, we made it. "The forest breaks ahead, and there's one of the lookout towers. We're nearly there now."

She ducked down, pulling in her wings and coming in at a trot to join me. I slowed my limping walk to almost a crawl. We were on the high cliffs; Luna's Landing was a lowland city, embraced in a bowl-shaped valley. Despite the need to get down there in search of our fellows, I paused for a moment to wrap my hands around the railing and peer out over the lookout point. Our capital city was a sight I never tired of taking in, particularly at its most festive time of year. And, I also had broken ribs, even if my frostbite had numbed some of the pain. I deserved a spot of rest.

Fairy World had been built upon clouds, but Anti-Fairy World had its gorgeous islands of floating rocks. Some were black, others blue, others white, and so many more in between. Luna's Landing was built beneath stunning scarlet and crimson cliffs on all four sides, like a crater gouged by the moon. Multicoloured, luminescent crystals sprouted from the nooks and crannies along the rock face, lighting the path which Mona and I were to follow down to the simple silver gate that would allow us into the market. Certainly, our shops may not be as tall as those in Fairy World. They may resemble rounded military bunkers more than the standard Fairy ideal of four wooden corners and sloped shingled roofs I'd seen in my study books. But they were ours, and they were perfect.

Even from here, I could pick up the beautiful melodies of musical instruments pouring up the mountainside. Of course. Today was the final day of the year. At midnight tonight, as depicted in the mural on the wall of the bottom creche roosting room, winter would reach its end. Then Thurmondo, nature spirit of Leaves and Curiosity, would lose all but a small selection of his memories. His eyelids would fall shut with heavy sleep and his anxious fears would fade, sending him collapsing to the dirt. His tears were due to soak the soils of worlds for the next six weeks, until he awoke in Winni's patient arms. Alas, poor Thurmondo. Each and every year he went down sobbing, insisting he would recall Winni's winter cruelty and not subject himself to yet another year that started off with flowers and ended with bruises and chains. And every year, his memories disappeared, and he fell into Winni's grasp all over again. I think that as Anti-Fairies, it's in our nature to admire him for it. As a pup with bruises and chains myself, I know I always did.

Thurmondo's springtime form was a playful one, representing innocence and the joys of youth. There were instruments playing for him all across Anti-Fairy World today, but no singing, of course- never singing on this day. Thurmondo was to be honoured with something that would stick with him. He always found comfort in melodies even if he couldn't recall the words.

And throughout the city and its skyscape below, dozens upon dozens of cheering, swooping Anti-Fairies dodged to and fro. Some played games of tossing balls, others flirted, and still others were there to track those of us undergoing our  _canetis_  so they might witness the ceremonious events unfold. At this time of year, our capital was always bursting over with visitors, and as I stood there on that overlook, I couldn't suppress my grin. So these were my people, sharp in the mind and creative in the arts. Why, I felt enormously proud to be an Anti-Fairy!

Of course I'd travelled to Luna's Landing a hundred times before, but it always stole my thoughts away. My biggest fantasy, sometimes, was to pay a personal visit to Faeheim before I turned 10,000. Anti-Penny would bring me there eventually, once I was expected to continue my acolyte training in the Water Temple. I hoped the Fairies had done as lovely a job designing their capital as we had done with ours. I couldn't wait to catch my first legitimate glimpse.

Two structures stood considerably taller than all the rest in our low, rounded city. The leftmost one from here was the Love Temple. Its foundation was circular, its roof and four towers domed. The sides of the building were layered in massive steps, each level outfitted in decorative wraparound walkways. For the festivities, the paths had been lined with purple paper lanterns, spiralling all the way from the building's public base, where the public crowd entered when attending marriage ceremonies, to the dome at its top, intended for quiet private worship and which also housed the living quarters for the acolytes born in the Love Year.

Two statues, taller than any person, taller than any living giant that I knew, taller than half the building, flanked the Temple's ground entrance. Both were hummingbirds: one whose head was low with its tail pointing to the sky, and one whose head was tilted back, wings lifted in flight. Traditionally, even before the Barrier went up, Fairies weren't exactly welcome here. Luna's Landing lay deep inside our border. It hadn't been our capital back when Tír Ildáthach and Hy-Brasil shared the same sky. We hadn't needed one. We'd had a simple, tiny city near the Blue Castle; that was all.

The Fairies had changed that. Now Luna's Landing was where my ancestors had built themselves up after the war, after being cast out from Tír Ildáthach in waves you could have swum through. Long ago, our people had lived side by side in harmony. Not as equals, but in harmony. Sure, the stereotyped image of that time period is of a happy Fairy family treating any Anti-Fairies who lived with them as servants or pets, but it wasn't uncommon custom for Fairy and Anti-Fairy counterparts to actually coexist beneath the same roof. Everyone had ties, everyone had family, even though we came from different backgrounds. There had even been blended families, who found ways to express their care for one another other than the intimate relations rendered impossible by our differing reproductive systems.

Those practices had ended with the war. Cross-Court marriages had been cancelled. Even between my grandmother Anti-Miranda and the Fairy drake she loved. Sigh. I was born in the wrong generation. And now, more and more these days, it seemed, Fairies would beg and plead for access to the Love Temple. After all the mockeries made against our culture, all the historical attempts to suppress our practices, they still wished to cherry-pick the ideas they liked and act as though that made them our champions. The war was their parents' war, they said. They hadn't lifted a finger against us, so couldn't they still marry each other in our Temple if they wanted to?

They wished to invade our place of safety and make our sacred place of worship a busy tourist site? Fine. Shortly before I was born, clever architects had built a precise, scaled-down version of Dayfry's Temple in present-day Crowfeld on Plane 4. It sat right at the edge of the cloudscape where it overlooked the scorched remains of the Shadow Bridge, which once had led between our world and Earth. As one of the final acts of war, Fairy soldiers known as the Mulberry Division had chased Anti-Fairy settlers from Earth "back" into the sky, and shattered the Bridge behind them.

The location was perfect. This second Temple stood near enough to the Fairy World border that the invasive Fairy pests who wished to perform their marriage ceremonies in the Love Temple could do so, and acolytes were trained to behave exactly as though they stood in the actual building. It made the temptations of Luna's Landing all the more alluring to foreigners, but we held firm. Luna's Landing was ours. Crowfeld was a trial basis. To Fairies' faces, we called it The Temple of Affection. Behind their backs, we knew it as The Temple of Lesser Love. I'd seen it once on a trip to Crowfeld with Anti-Penny. It was small koralins compared to the original thing.

Just on the other side of the square from the  _actual_  Love Temple perched the Grand Archives building. It commanded more regal and pompous energy than the Temple did, as its intention was to educate the masses as well as deliver just punishment upon anyone who went against tradition and broke one of our few sacred laws. Whereas Dayfry's Temple honoured him, the Grand Archives building exuded a different kind of power. It housed the public library on its lower floors, and provided the three members of the Anti-Fairy Council - the Navy Robe of the High South Region, the Teal of the Lower East, and the Maroon of the Far West - with a place to gather and conduct business on its highest floor.

Anti-Fairy architects had designed both this building and the Temple, and they were both so gorgeous and fitting for their purposes. There at the lookout railing, I rested my head on my folded arms and sighed. According to Anti-Elina and Anti-Penny, this was the work Tarrow had called me to do. I may never have the chance to design a Zodiac Temple, but my duties were critical nonetheless. Ponder. Practice. Pray. Appease the local spirits of whichever area my travels led me to. Communicate with mediums of lesser spirits who protected streams, caves, and groves of trees. Educate the masses. Dedicate myself hard enough and long enough, and perhaps I'd win the honour of designing large monuments for major spirits too. It was my fate. It was decided. Such was our way.

"Look sharp!"

My ears snapped around at Daniel's warning cry. I jerked up my head just in time for a large, slippery  _thing_  to fly into my face and bowl me into Mona, sending us both rolling across the ground. "Catch it!" Lacy squealed, melting out of the shadows. Mona shrieked with delight.

"Massive mustelid! My mom's!"

It was obviously a Water demon, built mainly into the lithe body of an otter with the wings of a speeding falcon in place of forelegs, and spiralled chimera horns curling from between its ears. Rather than fur, its skin appeared tough and sleek like that of a sea lion, and a gorgeous dark mottled blue in colour. Its tail was lengthy like a ribbon of yarn, snaking through the sky. Oh, thank Rhoswen. Truthfully I'd dreaded a fate of facing some type of beaver, as I didn't much care for their squat bodies and gnashing teeth. I despised beavers. It's those disturbing centre fangs.

"I know that one," I said as the demon scrambled to regain its footing with only two feet. "Anti-Penny calls that brute Atticus. And I do seem to recall that he hates me."

Atticus darted away from us and launched himself back into open air. He took off over the glowing city, with Lacy and Demetria in hot pursuit. Trish and Daniel cut him off up ahead, trying to pin the creature to the cliffs. Atticus brought his forepaws together and dove like an arrow towards the valley. His rapid shift in direction caused all four of them to collide. Atticus performed a flip, hind paws kicking, ribbon tail lashing, and seemed to mock us all with his chirping cry. He banked towards the cliff again, trailing bubbles of bad luck in his wake.

I knew what I had to do. The  _canetis_  was not a ritual where one should stand idly by with injury and watch his teammates go on without him. Everyone ought to put forth the effort, everyone ought to truly earn their juvenilehood. And if it came down to it, my ribs would prevent me from chasing the creature down the street. I backed away from the rail, keeping my eyes on the beast as he flew up the cliff-face towards us. Then I charged, and jumped.

I hit Atticus in midair. He screamed and flailed against me, but I encircled him with my arms. My weighty chains dragged us down. Tumbling through the air, we plummeted towards the rocks. And of course, my wings didn't work. I glanced around in struggled panic, fighting the wind tearing at my eyelids.

"Wait! Oh, gods. What have I  _done?"_

This wasn't a young umbra so weak a pup could handle it, but a full-fledged demon. Were Atticus to die upon impact, he would burst and scatter all the bad mojo which had given him solid form in a great whirlwind of splatter. I'd never channelled that much karma before! It would rush out of control! Besides that, how was I to explain to Anti-Penny that I myself had been responsible for the death of her favourite companion?

In an instant, my teammates swarmed around me, ready to quell my misgivings and buoy me up. Choking on my own spit, I untangled myself from the thrashing demon. He hit the ground. I didn't. Not directly, anyway. As a group we swerved, rolled, and bumped up against the demon we had brought down. When he struggled to get up, Daniel dragged himself over and punched him in the face. Atticus turned over on his side, mewling pitifully and offering his belly up for rubs. We all looked at each other, and laughed with relief. Trish brought her fangs to his neck, found his karmic pouch, and used her teeth to draw out his karmic weave. As a group, we knotted the correct threads of fate together to disable Atticus' brain from communicating with his legs, and put his weave inside him again. Then we hefted him up and hauled him down the street. What a glorious day.

The  _canetis_  was a ritual of travel and teamwork. It emphasised the way even small groups could be powerful, and that while all Anti-Fairies were united as one whole, we were not a mindless force, but individuals too. By this, I mean that although our cohort left the Blue Castle courtyard together, each successful team of six were released from the bonds of childhood as they brought their captured demon across the finish line, and we were not required to spend the night waiting impatiently for our peers. It gave the ritual that little personal touch.

My team wasn't the first to reach the Love Temple by any means, but we weren't the last either. After waving to the crowd and accepting our cheers, we were ushered from the Temple steps back to ground level so as to make room for whomever came next. Eager parents pushed forward, as respectful extended family members hung back, withholding their praise for a more personal and less hectic moment. Two representatives of all our kin unlatched the rings from one ear while the child squirmed with excitement between them, fluttering their wings.

Standing in the busy street, twisting my head more and more with every passing wingbeat, I waited anxiously for Mother and Augustus to show up. Yes, for many of my peers, the  _canetis_  was a special occasion indeed. At long last, their ears would no longer be weighed down, and an entire world of sonar and echolocation lay open for them to explore. It was much like being allowed to uncross your eyes after fifty years spent staring at the tip of your nose.

But for me, the  _canetis_  was so much more. Augustus had failed to pass his ritual time and time again, so for once, I was actually  _first_  to do something I so desired. Oh, I knew Mother would hate every second of it, but very soon she would come forward with the wand and key to unlock my chains.

Where were they?

I waited.

And I waited.

Five other teams of six came forward with demons large and small. Finally, I could take it no more. I pushed in the opposite direction the crowd was moving - towards the Love Temple - and instead made my way into the dining district. Despite the visiting colonies, tonight was a special night, for tonight one had to bring a young child with removed  _canetis_  rings turned sparkling black in their palm to be allowed to eat in any of the Luna's Landing establishments. There were simply too many Anti-Fairies, and this was to be a time of coming of age, a time of families.

I located Anti-Dixie and Anti-Penny chattering with Mona at a table outside of Amethyst Corner Feasting, just where they'd always promised they would be. "Excuse me," I said, remaining respectfully on the other side of the fence. "Anti-Penny, could I borrow your crystal?"

They saw the chains still entangled around my wings, and their laughter stopped. Anti-Dixie and Anti-Penny exchanged a look. As she rose and came towards me, Anti-Penny cleared her throat.

" _Mon ami_ , I assure you, Anti-Dixie and I would both be delighted to remove your bonds."

"No," I said. "I want my mum and brother to do it."

"I understand." She drew her crystal from her acolyte satchel and passed it through the metal bars. I turned my back, inhaling to gather my thoughts. My bare toes squeezed into the pebbles and ashes.

She answered. She'd had a crystal made into the cap of her staff long ago, for after all, she was a fine warrior and Anti-Bryndin's personal bodyguard after Anti-Buster, and was intended to be available for scrying on a constant basis in case there should be news of any emergency.

"M-Mum? I just passed my  _canetis_. I'm in Luna's Landing."

"Oh," she said distractedly. "Was that this year?"

I closed my eyes. "Can you come take off my chains?"

"All right, all right, I'm on my way. Don't drive yourself to a fit, good smoke. You don't want to go crazy in the head like- your father, do you?"

She waved her hand over the crystal on her staff, distorting her image into white mist before I could reply, and without asking me where in the city I was. I returned Anti-Penny's ball, and spent the next hour rubbing my hands up and down my arms, staring at the sky and waiting a little longer.

She did come, but Augustus had decided not to accompany her. Of course. Can you even believe him? Just a little scathing criticism, and he refuses to show his face during the most important ceremony of my puphood. Were our roles reversed, I never would have behaved that way. Our traditions came before our cowardly stubbornness, and he was shaming only himself by choosing not to be here.

Anti-Robin wouldn't have missed my ceremony for the universe, no matter how much food the Castle servants were expected to prepare for the coming feast. In fact, his spirit was probably standing at my shoulder this very minute, trying his hardest to remove my poor bonds. Poor Father, separated across the veil from his most respectful son.

My mother came at last with the key to my padlock in hand, and I waited with brimming energy, never speaking to her, never moving. Mona had turned to hug and accept congratulations from some of her late-showing relatives, but at that very moment, she turned around and pressed her face into the bars of the restaurant's fence. "Wait, where's-?"

_"Ahahahahahahaha!"_

Abandoning the accursed chains, I crashed my wings down with the force of typhoons and blasted into the air. True, my wings were pierced from the gashes where my bindings had been tied for so many years, but those were small and insignificant. I powered upward nonetheless. The sheer force of my speed piercing through the sky whipped at my face, pasting my ears flat against my skull.

"Tarrow almighty, I am free at last!"

I spiralled two dozen, three dozen, four dozen times as I climbed higher and higher before the muscles in my chest and shoulders (not to mention my injured ribs) even began to ache. Spinning to a half-halt, I flipped over sixty meters above ground and allowed gravity to wield her course. As I plunged back-first through the freezing sky, I locked my arms behind my head and smirked as I had never smirked before.

"I embody the breath of elation! I pave the path of desire untold! Oh, dear Father, if you could only hear me now."

The ashy ground was coming up fast. Removing my arms, I rolled sideways and came out of my dive in a brilliant swoop. Deep below, Mona, Anti-Penny, Anti-Dixie, and so many others peered up at me with ears cocked forward. I skimmed barely over their heads, bushing their fur in my wake. My wings pumped, each beat electrified.  _Faster_ , they cried.  _Higher_ , they shrieked.

More.

I swerved away from the city, flying straight towards the cliffs and altering my course in a direct vertical climb. Surpassing the lookout tower, I aimed my course vaguely towards the Blue Castle. How far did it look from here? Farther than I imagined, or even closer? I parted my jaws and squeaked a wave of sonar into open air. It came back sooner than I'd anticipated, and instant terror overtook me as I realised why. No longer was I walking at the pace of a small pup, but careening forward at maximum speed. Reacting fast, I banked to the side and ducked an enormous black tree branch which nearly throttled me.

"Good smoke!"

Ears and eyes working together, I veered through the looming forest trees, my smile breaking out through my initial fears. Apart from the time when I'd gotten Ambrosine accused of child abuse and his license suspended, I'd never felt better in my life.

When I returned to my study at the Castle after supper, I did so by wing. I barely noticed my aching ribs and stiff, frostbitten legs. I didn't even want to land long enough to open the door, and simply flipped on my stomach to hover while I worked at the knob. Once inside, I shut the door behind me and let my clothes fall immediately to the ground, completely blocking the thin crack separating the door from the floor. I didn't intend to remain in my study long- just long enough to dress in my nightwear, for today our creche would be moving up to the juvenile roosting room, and I wanted to be there for it as soon as possible.

I'd actually done it! Done what Augustus never had, done what my mum had always implied I never would. I felt lighter than the cloudlands. Why, if I could fly, I could do anything! I could stand against Mother's abuse and Electro's biting commentary. I could resist the feelings of worthlessness that tended to crowd my soul at times when I remembered Ambrosine and the intelligence test results. In fact, I almost didn't want to go back to squinting at smudged-up scrolls under the dim candlelight! Not just yet, anyway. I wanted to work on solving something else for a while.

My eyes fell on my father's canteen. The one with the smoking volcano painted on its front. It dangled by its strap on the back of my desk chair. I'd never thrown it out, partly because my ties to my father were so affectionate, and partly because it reminded me of the time Mona and I had been so rebellious, which was, as you will recall, the day I'd had one of the biggest thrills in my life. You know, come to think of it, I'd never actually managed to pop that thing open. Hmm.

I took the canteen from the chair and gave the lid a sharp twist. To my amusement, it split off without a struggle. I laughed. Well then! It would seem that I really had grown in strength as much as brains over the last forty years. Perhaps I really  _could_  do anything I put my mind to. Experimentally, I replaced the lid. I screwed it on as tightly as I possibly could, waited for thirty seconds or so, then pulled it off again.

"Hmm." Lifting the canteen near my eye, I squinted into the darkness of the pouch. It was filled nearly to the top with sloshing water. Probably the very same water I'd filled it with in preparation for mine and Mona's trip across the Fairy World border four decades ago now. With a shrug of my loose wings (Oh, how glorious it felt!) I brought the flask to my lips and took a long sip.

Something solid bumped against my fangs as I drank. Something squishy, like a worm.

Worms were delicious, but my automatic instinct to spring back kicked in first. Sputtering, coughing, I spewed the water across the room- and a ball of bright purple flew out with it. A trail of smoke followed behind it, twisting and coiling as the purple blob rapidly took on form. By the time she crashed against the wall and slid, stunned, to the floor, she had fully grown to a creature somewhat my own shape and size.

It was some sort of a damsel, I deduced by the long black hair lying in wet tangles over her face. A small, young damsel, with soft brown skin instead of blue fur. From the waist down, her body morphed into a wispy violet tail that swirled and twisted like a plume of smoke. From the waist up, her body was bare. The poor girl wasn't in the frame of mind to be embarrassed. She lay on the ground, her entire sopping wet form shaking and heaving. The water droplets along her arms steamed and crackled with boiling energy.

"What in the absolute name of twirling smoke?" I stood in the middle of my study for a few seconds, beyond perplexed, then dropped the canteen to the floor. I ran over and crouched by her side. "How-? What-? I say, are you quite all right?"

Her ancestry was Fomorian. I deduced that much by the snake-like tail in place of legs. One of the eelementals. Not the Water Tribe, for her tail did not end in fins like the Merfolk. Nor was her lower body comprised of rock, which ruled out the Milesians of the Soil Tribe. Hmm. With my assistance, the damsel managed to rise to her hands and, well, "knees" I suppose. She hunched over, gasping and shaking still. Water dribbled from her soaked hair and puddled on the stone floor. I looked wildly about the study, then snatched the black blanket I sometimes wrapped around myself when working late through cold nights. It was my favourite blanket, crafted from what I assume was the finest wool to ever pass beneath habetrot knitting needles. While it wasn't exactly a towel, she needed it right then more than I did. I placed it around her shoulders and scrubbed the water from her skin from head to toe. Well, not entirely head to toe, seeing as she didn't have toes, and I tried to avoid the more sensitive areas on her body.

"Who are you?" I blurted. "How did you end up in my father's canteen?"

Her response left her in a gasping whisper. I cocked my ears forward. "I'm sorry? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."

She lifted her head. The curtain of soaked hair concealed most of her face, but I made out the bright glow of two searing blue eyes. "L-Liloei. I am called Liloei by my people."

She pronounced it "Lih-low-ay". "Oh. Were you living in my father's canteen?"

Her chest heaved. She was young and hadn't developed her full damseline shape quite yet, but I still averted my eyes hastily as she fell forward, grabbing for my shoulders. "H-help. Please. Dry me off, I pray thee. I am so wet and cold."

"Um…" It probably shouldn't have been the biggest priority in my mind, but suddenly I remembered that she was a damsel and I was technically standing there naked.

"Genie," she rasped, tightening her grip on my elbows. "F-Fomorian. Genie. Fire Tribe. Wet. Help me quick, I pray thee, or I shall die."

"Oh! Ah…" I fumbled for my wand, and didn't find it at my waist. My eyes zinged around the study, and I spotted my clothes still abandoned by the door. Scrambling over as quickly as my aching body could, I picked up my discarded tunic to snatch the wand from my sheath. As I did, Liloei fell to her side and screeched as though suffering incredible physical pain. Her tail lashed across the floor, smothering the room in a cloud of lilac smoke.

"I'm coming, darling! Hold fast!" Abandoning my tunic, I rushed back to her side and flailed my wand around her. To my horror, it didn't so much as spark. It drooped as though merely noodles. I stared at it, then gave it a shake. "Really? Now? It was working just fine this afternoon. Good smoke, I have got to get this thing replaced."

Liloei groaned and hugged the blanket around her. I looked at my wand, then at her, then threw the wand away and fell to my knees at her side. "Good woman, tell me precisely what I can do to help you. Where does it hurt?"

"Door, door," she wheezed. "Shut the door…"

"But it is shut. Dear me, you're delusional too. Here we are. Let me see now." I reached for her cheek. Her hair was still damp, and I wasn't sure there was anything I could do about that. She'd bundled herself up quite nicely in the blanket, like some sort of pastry, and that should dry her body. How long did a damsel's hair normally take to dry? I had no idea. Mona's habit of splashing after animals in the pond often led her to soak herself all over again just after wiping off. In contrast, Harriet preferred wringing her hair with a towel over and over for perhaps half an hour until she rid herself of every last drop, and Teresa, for smoke's sake…

My ears flicked back. Wingbeats in the corridor. The energy field spoke of irritation, without offering specifics. Who was that? I opened my mouth to shout for help, before Anti-Elina's voice echoed through the door.

"Julius? Is there a damsel in there with you?"

I stared down at naked Liloei. She stared up at naked me from the floor, dazed and drained. Her tail continued to thrash about. Did she even understand the question? Had she heard it at all? Despite the sip of water I'd taken, my mouth had dried completely.

"No, High Countess. It's just me."

I heard Anti-Elina  _hmph_. "The last step of the  _canetis_  ceremony will be underway in just a moment. Hurry and dress yourself, and join us at the bottom creche. You're keeping us all waiting. Anti-Bryndin also requested I remind you that he intends to take you to the Breath Temple tonight."

Her wingbeats drew away down the corridor again, sharp and commanding. I grabbed my hair in two fists and yanked it down around my ears. "Oh my smoke. I can't believe I just lied! And to the High Countess! Oh no, oh no, my karmic weave is going to be wrapped in tangles around my throat by morning if I keep this up. I'll never get those knots unwound. Oh no. Oh no."

"Help," Liloei whispered. She'd started to push herself up on her forearms, but couldn't seem to raise her head.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to- I'll- I'll-" I moved my eyes between her and the door, trying to organise my scattered thoughts. Okay. Okay. Um. Let's see here. A genie named Liloei had spilled out of my father's canteen. She was wet and fading in my study. Anti-Elina was in the corridor. She could help me. Oh, she would be livid to hear the way I lied (Not to some random Fairy, but to  _her_ ), but I would take whatever scolding or swatting I deserved. Liloei was dying at my feet. Her life ranked above my pride. I darted over to the door.

"No," she groaned. "You'll break… it…"

"I'll get help," I assured Liloei, keeping one eye on her as I reached for the handle. It turned to smoke beneath my fingers. Before I had the chance to gasp in shock, the door itself began to crumble into nothing. Where it melted away, it left solid stone wall in place behind it. The floor rattled beneath my feet. Smoky tendrils clasped around my legs.

"No!" I lunged for the splintering door, crashing my left shoulder against it with enough force to knock it apart. I expected to spill forward into the corridor, but the force of magical backlash catapulted me back into the study, slamming me like a small cake into the opposite wall. The door exploded inward. Just as I looked up, my skull cracked against stone. Pain shot across my eye. I managed to let out a long, piercing squeak before unceremoniously flopping over, collapsing on top of Liloei. When I lifted my head, the only colour I could make out for certain was royal purple. My vision swam with white spots and smoke. Glistening golden blood dripped down from my head to the back of my hand. Yellow, to mirror Cosmo Prime's mood. Not mine. Never mine. What a cruel joke.

Eyelids flickering horribly, I let myself fall limp.

Swim.

All darkness.

All dark still.

Blackness for a time.

I don't know for how long I remained unaware of the world, but gradually I managed to stir myself awake. It was incredibly hot. Scorching, in fact. Were we still in my study? The stone beneath my cheek felt like that of my study floor, and believe me, I'd slept on it quite a few times.

"Here," someone murmured. "Take this, I pray thee."

When I looked up, through my blurry vision, I could make out a hand offering me my tunic. A soft, brown, furless hand. Liloei was facing the other way, her arm stretched out behind her. She was as tiny as I remembered her being, really not much bigger than me, and I was but a pup. Well, technically I was an official juvenile now. Oof.

Liloei's black hair was now dry and styled in a single sweeping plait, instead of dangling like scattered octopus tentacles from her head. It reached halfway to her waist. Her tail appeared comprised of both swirling lilac smoke and glimmering light. She wore no clothing herself, though appeared flustered to be in the same room with a naked drake, even if we belonged to different species. Not that it technically mattered, I supposed, since as I recalled from my studies, those of the Fomorian tribes could alter their lower halves and mate with anyone regardless of parts or biological sex. Well, any adult.

I took the tunic and pulled it over myself without speaking. The process was gradual. My arms were sore from sleeping on them wrong, and black insect-like spots swarmed me no matter which way I looked. "Dressed," I mumbled when I was finished buckling my belt. I wiped my hair from my face. It kept sticking on my left side. Liloei turned around, curious, and immediately winced.

"Eef. Thine eye."

My brow furrowed. "What?"

"Thou hast got a little…" Liloei motioned to my face with a flutter of her hand. Confused, I pressed my fingers to my cheek. They came away tingling, cold, and sticky as though I'd just touched a thin sheet of ice on a pond. I lowered my hand in front of my eyes, slowly tilting it one way and then the other. I found it thoroughly soaked in golden blood.

"What," I muttered again, more as a statement than a question this time. I pushed my clean fingers through my hair. I blinked. I blinked again, unnerved by the struggle of my eyes to adjust to the room around me. The longer I studied the blood-soaked hand, the tighter my throat constricted. "Wait a moment. Oh no. Oh no… What-? Why-? I… can't see. Why can't I see? My left eye. My left eye is… it's completely blind? What? Oh. I see. I mean, I don't see. I'm utterly blind on my left side now. My eye is still here, but I can't see. Oh. Oh dear."

Liloei remained silent, bobbing in the air with her hands resting on her general lap area. I raised my head, and when I did so, she flinched away again.

"Is it that bad?"

"It is not that good."

"Oh. Oh." I wiped at my face. At least I wasn't hurt anymore, which meant I wasn't losing magic, which meant I was no longer bleeding. The Fae were notoriously fast healers. If I wasn't incapacitated now, then I'd be fine if given a little time.

I blew upwards at my bangs. Far too many hairs stuck in the blood around my eye for comfort. I resolved to take my time bathing to rinse it all out. Setting my hands on my knees, I looked around my study. The purple smoke was gone from the room, except for that which comprised Liloei's tail, of course. I had my borrowed library scrolls. My crumpled papers in my overflowing wastebasket. My clothes in their old worn trunk. My roost and my climbing netting on the wall. My corner chamber pot. The tall racks where I kept all my research and my father's painstakingly organised notes. My one soft chair in the corner beside its candle on the tiny table. But something was missing that shouldn't have been.

"I say. What the bloody smoke happened to the door?"

Liloei turned her head. Together, we gazed upon the offending plain wall. She coiled the tip of her tail. Her whole body flattened as she exhaled.

"Yes… It wouldst seem that my lamp hast been expanded to encompass the entirety of thine bedchamber."

I shifted my eyes… eye… over to her. "What does that mean?"

She drew my father's canteen from the floor and held it in both hands, taking in the painted volcano on its front. Idly, she wrapped the canteen's strap around her wrist. "Where once I held dominion over this small vessel alone, I now have been chained to these four walls. Thou didst try to flee a genie's lamp from the inside, which is why thou wast smitten by the backlash forces of magic."

"My study isn't a genie's lamp," I said. "I'm no genie. And to the best of my knowledge, no foreign magic was cast on me to hex me here. That doesn't make sense."

Liloei held the canteen out to me. "I resided within this vessel for many years. Nearly four centuries, I suspect, though I cannot ascertain the details. The rules of a genie's lamp are simple ones: I can only be freed from my vessel by a creature considered to be non-magical."

"Beg pardon?" I asked, horrendously offended by the implication.

"There is but one exception." Liloei lifted her pointer finger to silence me, bobbing gently nearer. "The genies of the modern ages may never leave an enclosed space unless another creature shall first allow them out into another space. Should my lamp be opened within a solid, enclosed area, then I am granted the ability to transition from mine little vessel" - the canteen - "to the larger areas of what has then become mine vessel too."

"You were able to leave your lamp for my mouth, and from my mouth you moved into my closed-off room," I realised. I dropped my gaze to my tunic. Liloei inclined her head.

"This is so. My sincerest apologies for the damage done to thine eye. Thou breakest the seal that didst allow me to treat this space as though it were my lamp. The universe, as you  _Faeumbra_  say, was left to balance itself."

"Herself. The universe considers herself to be female."

"Mm. As I could not be forced to return to my vessel, thine chamber was forced to accommodate me."

"Oh. So then, the universe really did turn my study into your lamp to achieve homeostasis. She always finds a way." I looked around the room again, painfully aware of how very sparse it seemed. Sets of both simple and ceremonial clothing. A dirty plate. Scrolls I'd memorised long ago. One blanket. One roost. One cluttered desk. One wobbly chair. "And… that's why the door disappeared, too. Genie lamps envelop the nearest source of magic. No magical creature can exit a genie's lamp on their own. The magic of the seven Fomorian tribes, of which you Genies are a part, is much stronger than that of Fairykind. I read about that."

"I am afraid thou art just as imprisoned in here as I, until some force on the outside releases us both." Liloei looked pointedly at my grubby training wand, abandoned on the floor. "Yes. Some non-magical source. With much sadness in my heart, I must make known unto thee that we appeareth to be within a room inside what I assume must be a magical Anti-Fairy manorhouse in your magical cloudland world. The non-magical races will not venture here. I am afraid there is but little hope for us both."

I clenched my arms around my stomach. My wings swept forward, then beat themselves out again. "But… I got you out of my father's canteen…"

"I didst not properly escape my lamp. Not as in forever. I simply moved from one enclosed vessel to another. Thine garment wast draped before the door, sealing thine chamber shut. I remain imprisoned. But…" Her shoulders lifted, then fell in apology. "How shalt we move from here into the enclosed hallway? Not so, when you Anti-Fairy are a people whose windows are barred and open. Who out there shouldst even think to try anything which might save us, if they do lack the knowledge that we are gone? Nay. You and I shalt live out the remainder of our days in here."

"Oh. I see…"

The concept sounded deluded when she spoke it aloud, but I didn't know enough about genies to argue against her. I sniffled. Then I laughed, and laughed, and beat my hands against the floor as I howled. Liloei floated backwards.

"Hast thou cracked thy mind?"

Through my tears, I choked out, "It's s-so funny, isn't it? I suffered almost fifty years with my wings tied up, all in desperate anticipation of this day, of my freedom, a-and I was good and obedient and I worked  _so hard_ , and it doesn't even matter now, does it? I can't fly about in here. Not the way I need to. Ohh, the irony absolutely  _kills_  me!"

There was nothing Liloei could say to me, although she raised her hand in my direction as though she wanted to try. I covered my eyes with both palms, and gave up pretending I was the held-together type.

"Oh no. Oh no! I was s-supposed to perform my Tarrow dance with Mona tomorrow. She's going to be waiting for me backstage, outfitted in her pretty Soil brown dress with all the buttons and lace, wondering why I simply never showed. Why, everyone will assume I flew off the moment I was able to, just as they always insisted I would! Julius the Unrestrainable, they called me. Anti-Bryndin will search up and down for me so he might drag me to the Breath Temple for regenerative healing, but he won't find me anywhere. Anti-Elina will take careful note of all the trouble I'm causing her. Caden will wonder why I never bid him good-bye. Electro will have my hide for skipping chores. And poor, poor Mona. I'll never have the chance to kiss her now. I shan't ever sire pups of my own. The very last words I ever flung at my brother were horribly cruel in nature, you know what I mean? A-and there's a whole week of festivities for the turn of the zodiac cycle that I was so looking forward to…"

Liloei knelt down in front of me, holding my forearms in her gentle hands. "I know it may not seem to be much comfort to thee now, but at least thou canst appreciate my presence. At least thou art not alone here. To be alone can be the most painful of fates."

 _"Ah-buh-buh!_ Don't you  _dare_  give me that. It's all your fault I'm in this bloody mess in the first place!  _Hic._  No, no, no. I can't stand it in here. It's like being trapped by the anti-cherubs when I was lifesmoke all over again. O-only this time, Augustus isn't coming for me. No one knows where I am. They don't. They don't!" I clenched my fingers in my hair, yanking my bangs down over my eyes. My wings flapped in agony. Another hiccup wrenched my chest in two before I could try and stop it.

Shoving Liloei off, I tucked my head between my knees. How long had I been unconscious? Was it past midnight in this timezone yet? My ears went flat at the thought.

"Good gods, this can't have really happened to me. It's another of my delusions. That must be it. But if it isn't, then that means it's most probably tomorrow now and I- I don't even know what Mother Nature named the new year. Why, isn't that the most dreadful thing you've ever heard, darling?"

"Is it?"

 _"Yes!"_ Both hands clapped over my mouth. I screamed words which for the sake of politeness don't bear repeating. "Oh my gods! I'm an  _Anti-Fairy_  trapped inside a genie's lamp, and I don't have the slightest clue what year it is  _at all!"_

**END ACT 1**


	14. ACT 2 - If She Hollers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me for "Frayed Knots" Act 2, folks. Finally, this is the last of the heavy worldbuilding chapters. As per usual, many things are important, but I don't expect you to remember them all. Besides making Anti-Cosmo's intellect believable, we're foreshadowing several plot points here that we'll cover throughout the remainder of the story. Some, not any time soon. But I still believe it's important to lay the groundwork early so you won't be caught completely by surprise.
> 
> Think of this chapter as a vague outline of what's all to come. As plot points become important later, I'll be sure to refresh your memory on whatever details you'll need to know. So, don't stress too much to remember things here and now. I got you. Thanks for humoring me, and enjoy.

_In which Julius experiences life from inside a genie's lamp_

* * *

I had the most bizarre dream after I cried myself back to sleep. I couldn't fly. My wings were so light against my back, they felt like they weren't there at all. Were they there? They weren't responding to their usual movements. I kept twisting in a circle, trying to get a good look at myself, but my legs wouldn't work. They crumpled beneath me, sprawling me flat on my face. I fumbled with my hands - pale hands with long nails painted like bloodied claws - and pushed myself up.

I was in a prison. At least, I think that's what it was, and it only made sense that I would dream of prison, being locked up in Liloei's lamp and all. This strange room looked warm and friendly instead of harsh and cold, but I recognised it as a prison nonetheless.

Beside me stood a pallet covered in plush animal skins, along with a dresser and not much else. Two doors led off from the room. I tried to move, but I couldn't fly. I couldn't  _poof._ I couldn't walk. I couldn't even stand up. My legs wouldn't allow it. My hair didn't hang in front of my eyes, yet it was so long. It poured over my shoulders, rippling down my arms and back. It was ginger russet. The pelt of a fox. The coat of my ancestor, Her Glory Cadmea.

I crawled on my elbows towards the larger of the two doors: An exterior door with a screen full of as many holes as a butterfly net. Behind me, behind the second door, were voices. Mocking voices.

The floor was wooden. Unfamiliar. And I was so tired. I wanted to sleep, but I knew the voices behind that door would never allow it if they caught me. I barely grazed the screened exit door with my fingertips when I woke up. Only to confirm that I was still trapped in my study. The one place that had been mine and mine alone, which belonged to a genie now. A stranger. And there were no doors to reach for in hope of rescue at all.

I didn't speak to Liloei for two hours after that. She didn't try to force me. Rather, I curled up in my hard desk chair, nursing my frostbitten legs and injured eye. Some of the blood around it had crusted into golden flakes. As I picked at them, I waited for Clarice's soul to warm my chest with comfort. Perhaps even whisper in my ear that she was truly there. But I felt nothing. As though she didn't exist at all, and Zodiism was make-believe, and my entire life had been a lie. So I sat, quietly. Liloei kept herself busy drifting around my study and examining the things on my shelves and in my drawers. Things that I didn't allow even Mona to dig through. My throat burned. I wanted to ask her to stop, but I just couldn't find the strength.

"Thou hast many large books for a small child," she finally said.

I didn't have a handkerchief handy, so I forced myself to wipe my nose on my sleeve, even though it was horribly disgusting and undignified. "B-books? I suppose I do. Do you read?"

"Some."

"How?" When she looked up, I shrank down in my chair. "I mean, you were trapped in a lamp for at least four centuries, so… I wondered how you learned to read."

Liloei selected a scroll from one of my higher shelves. She weighed it in her hand, then put it back. The gold cuffs around her wrists which bound her to this lamp glinted dully in the low candlelight. "I wast taught by mine mother."

"Oh. Then who taught her?"

"Her mother, I suppose. Perhaps she taught herself."

Another thought popped into my brain. I sat up on my knees, clutching the back of the chair until my claws nearly pierced the black fabric. "Ah! Good dame, were you born inside a genie lamp, or in the real world?"

Liloei tossed me a look of disappointment. I pressed my ears flat against my head. She said, "The lamp which holds us captive is part of the real world. My world is as real as thine."

"I see. But I wonder if it actually is."

"It is."

I cringed back, but pressed on nonetheless. "I just thought, you fit inside my father's old canteen somehow, and that was so much smaller than my study. Might we be caught in a realm outside of time and space? Inside a pocket dimension of sorts? Something like-" I broke off when she glanced at me sharply again, leaving the words "my empty forehead chamber" existing only in my thoughts.

Liloei took a packet of bark strips from my shelf and peeled the pages apart. "A genie is a creature of smoke and fire. Upon entering a lamp, my flesh particles dissolve to naught but smoke. It is this part of me which I might channel through the neck of a vessel. This is how I am able to enter a space so small."

"Ah." My eyes searched the room until I spotted my father's canteen hanging from a hook on the wall I didn't remember. "Does that mean you can turn to smoke and slip inside my father's canteen from time to time? Do you have your own bedchamber in there? Is that where you'll be staying? Ooh, what's it like in a real genie's lamp? Can I come?"

Liloei traced her hand down one wall of my study. Her fingers tightened around a stone. "Once inside a lamp, a genie loses her ability to turn to smoke, unless her lamp is opened from the outside."

"So you can't, then?"

"Becoming smoke is not a genie's choice or will. My former vessel is much too small for me. I am unable to place myself within it. This is my lamp now. In the state between masters, which is known as being  _en lamp_ , I might only transfer myself to another vessel if it were large enough to contain my whole being as I am now."

Her words were half tense, and I wondered if I were pressing on her nerves. The fur prickled down the back of my neck. I sat on my heels. "I'm terribly sorry. You see, I've never before seen an actual genie in the flesh. I have so many questions regarding your way of life."

"There shall be time, I am certain, to answer them all." Idly, Liloei picked up one of my thicker bark strip books: A biography on the first-ever will o' the wisp, Ilisa Maddington, called  _Origin of the Will o' the Wisps._ Written by Ilisa herself and majorly revised by the Yugopotamian Henry Bates, it told the story of how she was a fairy mutation who for some reason or another had been born with  _lepidoptera_ , or "butterfly" wings, instead of  _anax_ , or "dragonfly" ones like most fairies. Well, the original copy was written by Ilisa, anyway. I'd found one at the library and liked it so much that I'd rewritten the entire thing down for myself, word for word, over the course of two months. It was an awfully thick thing, too.

And Liloei was picking it up.

"Not that one!" I leaped from my chair and snatched it away from her, stuttering over my own words. "No, no, you can't read that one. That one's…" I hugged it to my chest. "Th-this one's special."

Liloei floated back, pressing her hands to her bare chest. "I am shocked."

"Don't touch this one. At least not right now. This one's my special book. I always read it when I'm sad, a-and somehow it always makes me feel better on both an emotional and spiritual level." I ducked my head, squeezing the bark strips tighter. They crunched. "I want to read this one. P-pick something else."

"Such as what?"

I blinked my eyes open. My study felt so dreary, so stone, so cold. My ears couldn't pick up the sound of voices far down the hallway, nor scuttling vermin or dripping water. Liloei's arms were folded. Her tail twitched. I glanced down at a stack of texts near my feet, then picked up the one on top. "Um… Maybe you'll like this one. It's about the four treasures of the Tuatha dé Danann."

"Oh? And, who art the Tuatha dé Danann?"

"Um… Let me see." My nerves had bundled in my throat, and I had to struggle to piece my words together. "The Tuatha were an ancient race who inhabited Plane 23 of Existence, which they knew as Tír na nÓg, in the days of the Great Dawn. They came into being long before the Solitary Fae who gave rise to Anti-Fairies did. The Tuatha were, ah… Well, you see, the Tuatha were the children of the Great Universe Queen Whose Name Anti-Fairy Tongues Do Not Speak."

Liloei tilted her head. "Dost thou mean Danu?"

I winced, hugging Ilisa's book tighter. So much for that plan. My toes clenched. "Oh. Erm. You know her too?"

She nodded. Although her genie ears weren't capable of flicking forward to show it, I could tell she was interested in what I'd said. There was a certain thrum in her colour, a certain swirl in her tail. "I am familiar with the devil queen. My people, the Fomorians, hath waged war against Danu's People since the beginning of time. Thankfully, my ancestors were blessed with victory during the Sealing War. Danu's demon offspring art dead now, and the seven Fomorian tribes maintaineth the order and balance of the universe's magic."

"Oh, um." I decided not to tell her that one of the Tuatha actually  _had_  survived the Sealing War. She called herself the Fairy Elder now. If I recalled correctly, she resided in the Pink Castle in the Fairy World capital city, Faeheim. Mother Nature and Father Time had crafted her a magical diamond talisman she wore around her neck which cured all illnesses and prevented her from dying, so long as it never came off.

Liloei tapped one finger against her cheek. "I had not heard that Danu's People held four treasures."

"Um. Yes. Well, following the end of the Sealing War, the four treasures were gifted to the three Fairykind races." I shifted Ilisa's book and held up four fingers. "The Primary Fairies received King Nuada's sword of light,  _Claímh Solais_ : an unbeatable weapon which severs souls from bodies and sends any who touch its unsheathed blade directly to the afterlife. It resides in the Pink Castle in Fairy World now. The Fairy Refracts received Lugh's spear,  _Sleá Bua_ : a peacekeeping symbol which renders its wielder immune to any harm. It lies sealed away in the Gold Castle of Avalon. The Anti-Fairies received the Dagda's bottomless cauldron of food and drink,  _Coire Dagdae_ , which is kept in the Blue Castle kitchens and nourishes us all with plentiful feasts to this day."

"The deadly sword of the Pink Castle, the spear of undying of the Gold Castle, the bottomless cauldron of the feast of the Blue Castle." Liloei pressed down on three of her fingers in turn, counting the sacred treasures out like items on a shopping list taken to market. I didn't like the frown I read across her face. No, I didn't particularly like that frown at all.

"Er, right… Lastly, the singing coronation stone, the Lia Fáil, went to all three of the Fae genera. It lies on Planet Earth in the neutral territory of Inis Fáil, and is where all major positions of power in the cloudlands are legally coronated. You know, ambassadors and things. High Counts. People." I wiped my wrist across my nose. "So, um, anyway. You should read that text. It's an interesting one. You'll enjoy it, I think. But Ilisa's book is mine. I'm reading it."

Liloei took the Tuathan treasures book from me and settled in the padded chair that I kept in the corner for Mona's visits. Not that Mona would be coming around any time soon. Not anymore.

My teeth clenched. I looked down at the bark strips in my hands. Inside Liloei's lamp, I had no magic. My wand was useless. I couldn't fly. So I walked back to my desk and quietly set Ilisa Maddington's biography on the edge.

Ilisa's story… was not a pretty one. As a female Fairy mutation, she'd been bred as a stud repeatedly by the Eros Family when brought into the Eros Nest (It was Fairy drakes who underwent pregnancy, you see). On top of that, since there were no other wisp drakes that Ilisa could breed with, passing along the mutated gene that affected her wings was not guaranteed every time she tried. Only a third of all the offspring she'd mothered shared her  _lepidoptera_  wings at all. Even in this day and age, baby wisps were notoriously fragile. No, Liloei didn't need to know any of this.

But while I always found Ilisa's history fascinating, I couldn't stomach the stories of her time in the Eros Nest right now. Not when I too was caged. Instead, I flipped through the bark strips until I found the painted pictures in the middle. I popped open my inkwell. There wasn't much left. Taking my own paintbrush from the cup on my desk, I copied the swirling design of Ilisa's wings onto a new piece of parchment. Over. And over. And over.

I did this all with only one hand, gripping my bangs with the other. I don't know quite what it was, but I found something soothing in the pleasant round shape and the vibrant black and orange patterns of her wings. I tried not to think about the stories of her death, how she'd had one wing torn off completely before being buried alive beneath the collapsing Soil Temple… a piece of her wing that didn't turn to dust with the rest of her, now pinned on display on the Eros Nest walls… By the time an hour had passed, my anxieties had somewhat eased, and I felt considerably better. I wiped my brush clean over the inkwell, pressing deeply into it with the claw on my thumb.

"Liloei?"

I heard her hair shift as she raised her head, still tucked in her corner. "Yes?"

I turned around. "I'm not sure I ever told you my name. It's Julius."

"It's a lovely name. Who is thy mother?"

"Um. Anti-Florensa Anti-Lunifly. She's Anti-Bryndin's third wife, and his most loyal personal guard. If you know him at all."

Liloei bobbed her head and shut the treasure book. "She sounds as though she holds great status. I am the youngest daughter of Suswa herself."

"Oh." I didn't know who Suswa was, but Liloei had an expectant air about her, so I said, "That's a fine name too. She was your mother?"

"She was."

I'd never wondered how genies reproduced before, and took a moment to reflect on all I knew of their kind. It wasn't much. I knew Genies to be one of the seven Fomorian tribes, each based on one of the seven elements and created by the zodiac spirits themselves. Saturn, the spirit of Fire and Energy, had moulded the first two genies out of rich volcanic soil. The two of them and their first three children had lived on Planet Mars, multiplying for many millennia.

But Planet Mars became… unfit. I didn't know the exact details, but I knew it had something to do with genies wiping out all major predators except the foops (the "star wolves"). Once their competition had gone, the foops had multiplied tremendously. Faster than the genies. Faster than so many Martian creatures, including the once-dominant sentient species of the planet, the El-Gems. And then there came a famine.

I knew the Eros Family made a decree. It was a Daoist belief that Aengus (the ancient deity of love, youth, and poetry among the Tuatha Dé Dannan) had foreseen the downfall of the Tuathan people. He chose to gift his powers over the forces of love and reproduction to the Eros family line, and commanded the cherubs to ensure the survival of every species in the universe until the end of time. The Eroses had interpreted his final command to mean that a great menagerie must be built in the cloudlands, and all species in the universe preserved at all costs.

Not terribly long before my birth, the cherubs had invaded Planet Mars to relocate all the Martians. Many foops reached the cloudlands and became an invasive species, chasing and devouring everything they could find, and often scavenging through the waste dumps until only a few garbage collectors were brave enough to take them on. The El-Gems were kept within the Eros Nest for breeding, the eventual hope being to return them to their original home once their population recovered. The genies were bottled temporarily, and released on Planet Earth.

Until recently.

I'd never been to Planet Earth before. It was said that it wasn't safe, even for Anti-Fairies. Ever since Helena's Folly, much of the planet had been stricken with ice, and this ice had nearly wiped out the Genie population once more. The cherubs came. Genies were bottled again, for their own protection. They were to be brought back to the Eros Nest… Only, the shipment had been capsized by pirates along the way, scattering Genie lamps all across the planet below. Some in deserts, some in forests, some on mountaintops, and some even in the seas. Poor geniefolk, bundled in travel vessels which would become associated with their race for good.

So now I wondered…

"Liloei? How did your parents meet?"

She thought for a moment. "My dam and sire had each been roused from slumber by two masters who rubbed their lamps in a land far from this place. Each granted their master two of three promised wishes, and disappeared to await the call to return. They met whilst sunning themselves on desert rocks. Once my mother granted the third wish of her master, she returned to her vessel to await her next taste of the free air. There, I was born."

"You never knew your father, did you? He never came to visit? Oh. No family dinners? Ever?"

"Such is our way," she simply said.

"Yes, I understand that." I looked at my hands. "You know, it's interesting how we have that detail in common. See, I never really knew my father either. His name was Anti-Robin, and Mother always says I'm the spitting image of him. Only, he kept his hair much shorter and could hardly see past the end of his nose. My parents had my brother, met again to have me, and for the most part kept to their separate ways."

"At least thou hast a name for him. I haven't even that." Liloei stretched her arms above her head, clasping one elbow. She yawned. "It is custom for an expecting doe to seek a hidden, warm place to bear her newborn candles. Perhaps a hole in a great tree, or the abandoned den of a foop. Perhaps a stove with its belly filled by glowing coals. It was genies themselves who came up with the idea of becoming smoke to slip inside a small space where no predator may reach them." Her smile twitched up in one corner. "Perhaps our ancient partnership with lamps could have been avoided had we genies only learned to build our own nests, and not merely lay claim to those which we found. We would not have been so easily trapped by cherubs then. Perhaps mine are said to be a lazy people for good reason."

I nodded, then shook my head. "So you were born inside my father's canteen? The one I opened when I set you loose in here?"

"I suppose I was."

"Then that means your mother Suswa managed to escape!" I clenched my fists. "Brilliant! Well? Where is she now? How did she get out?"

Liloei's gaze turned suddenly vacant. She lowered her head. "No. Suswa… drowned many years ago. Our vessel one day was, without warning, filled with sudden water. Water soaks a genie's soul, destroying their powers and leaving them helpless. She is not with us anymore. I survived that fate only by creating a ledge out of the wall in the upper portion of the vessel, and living out my days there until I was finally freed."

"Oh. Oh." I looked away, desperately searching for some way to change the conversation topic. Spider threads of guilt crawled along my throat. My toes tapped against the ground. "Um… Er, On the subject of reproduction, I have a question. I've heard that genies absorb magic from a certain frequency of the energy field in to sustain themselves instead of food. Is it true that magic was a rather limited resource on Planet Mars for wild genies? Compared to Planet Earth and the cloudlands, I mean."

Liloei hesitated. "The term I might have thee use is 'free', not 'wild', but it is as thou sayest."

I studied her lean shape for a moment, thinking of research papers I'd pored over years ago. "Well, if Martian genies were competing amongst themselves for a limited resource, would that not mean that Martian genies have evolved to be smaller than Earth or cloudland genies? It's called the 'island rule.' I read about it once, but I don't know if it applies to genies from another planet. I was just wondering if native Martian genies are considered larger or smaller than genies raised in the Eros Nest and such. Simple curiosity, you understand."

"It is not polite to inquire of a lady's weight." Yawning, Liloei looked me up and down. "Art thou not an Anti-Fairy who fills his belly on great feasts every day? Should thou not be larger as well?"

Oof.

My eyes (Well, my  _eye_ ) fell on the blank stone wall which had once held the door to my study. I tipped my head. "Hmm," I said, because talking kept me from bursting into tears. "Bloody shame about the door, I must say. If only I had some texts to read. Then I could research a bit until I'm able to innovate us a way out of here. My brains are next to nothing without my books."

Liloei pricked her ears. "As thou hast shared thy books with me, so I couldst share my books too."

I turned. "Your books?"

In answer, Liloei snapped her fingers together. A harsh, ringing sound like a great mallet beating on a plate tore through the air and made me jump. There was a whoosh of magic between us. It didn't explode outward from a center point as Fairy and Anti-Fairy magic did. Rather, it spiralled like a cyclone. The wind buffeted my fur. A stack of books - I think they were books - appeared on the floor in front of me then. Their colourful covers were solid. Their pages weren't made from bark, but from the same parchment you would expect of a scroll. When I gasped, Liloei said, "Thy starry magic may be disabled within a genie's vessel, but my power runs full so long as we remaineth inside. While I cannot force my way from a sealed lamp, I do possess some ability to alter my surroundings as I wish… Although, I am afraid I may only create a book which I myself hath read before."

"Why, that's smashing news! How delightful. What else can you do?"

Liloei looked about. "I couldst style our place of residence to our liking, if thou art all right with that."

Thrilled to see more genie magic in action, I asked, "How so?"

She yawned yet a third time. "I find these stone walls unpleasant. May I turn them to wood?"

"Certainly. Far be it for me to stand in your way."

Liloei snapped her fingers again.  _Gong!_ Another cyclone of magic rippled around the room, tearing the stones loose from the walls and shoving slats of wood in their place. It was fascinating. I'd never seen anyone use magic to change an actual  _wall_ before. To hang up any decorations they didn't feel like doing by hand, perhaps, but never to alter an entire wall. When the magic died down, the grey stone walls of my study were replaced with sleek brown wood. Liloei had even added a fireplace in one corner that somehow didn't scorch the paneling around it. Soil and Fire energy met and melded. Genie magic tingled on my fur.

"I like it," I said. "Only, even with the fire, this room channels a bit too much Soil energy for my tastes. We'll want some Sky energy to balance it out. Could you make the floor solid marble too?"

"If thou wish it to be so."

I clapped my hands. "Perfect! Ooh, what colour should it be? Damsel's choice. I insist."

Liloei considered. "Pink."

I inadvertently pulled a face. My own, specifically. But, it was her magic. So I said, "All right. Make it pink if you so desire to. Perhaps the colour will grow on me in time."

She snapped her fingers. This time, I braced myself for the whirlwind.  _Gong!_  In a moment, my stone floor had turned, well,  _pink_. Little black, gold, and white swirls ran throughout it in interesting patterns.

"Ah, quite stylish, I say. Ooh. Do you see my roost up on the ceiling there? It's a little plain, all metal like that. You know, I've always wanted a roost carved from moose antler. Could you make me one like that?"

Liloei tilted her head. "'Moose antler'?"

"Yes. You know. Like…" I put both hands behind my ears, spreading my fingers wide. "Moose. Have you never seen a moose before? Perhaps in one of your books?"

"I don't believe so…"

"Oh. Pity, that." I tapped my cheek. "How about a roost of bone, then. Can you do bone?"

 _Gong!_  My metal roost suddenly became white bone, decorated with large nicks, like fang-marks from gnawing foops.

"Ahaha! Ooh, I feel positively  _evil_  now! Apart from the pink floor, this could be the start of a wondrous evil lair. You know, I always play the villain in my games with Caden and Mona. Jolly good fun." I rubbed my hands together. "And we of course should have a sofa, so you and I might be able to sit alongside one another. It ought to be very soft. And black. I like black."

 _Gong!_  My ears were still ringing from the first one.

"And- and may I have a hat?"

Liloei held her fingers up, but paused. She gave me a sideways glance. "Thou wishest for a hat?"

I clasped my hands before my chest, lifting myself onto the tips of my toes. "Oh please, if it wouldn't trouble you much, darling. I've always wanted a hat to tuck all my hair into. A tall blue one. A top hat, if you would. You see, I desire to play the part of dashing city dandy, but I've never been bold enough to stand against my mum's scoldings before. It isn't considered proper, really, but now we're alone, and I simply must have one."

"Then thou shalt have a hat, and I shall make thee a peacock amongst toads."

 _Gong!_ A perfect hat sculpted of what I believe was felt appeared between my head and my crown. Its brim tipped down over my eyes. I had to use both hands to push it up, but I grinned the entire time. "Ahahaha! I'm afraid it's much too big for me. I do love it all the same. I think I'll keep it. Yes, I do believe I will. Smashing job, I must say. Oh, Liloei, I simply can't thank you enough. Only, would you be so kind as to add a few cabinets about the place so I may organise my things?"

 _Gong!_ Not only did Liloei do as I requested, but she even used magic to open the cabinet doors and sweep all my things inside. As I watched, the books and papers rearranged themselves by subject, and then alphabetically. "Any further requests, Julius?" Liloei asked with another soft yawn. She folded some of her black hair behind one ear.

"I'll think of some another time," I assured her. "Thank you very much." I thought for two seconds, then asked, "Is there anything else you wanted to do for yourself, luv?"

"Since thou asked, I shalt elaborate." Liloei snapped her fingers twice more. A three-course poultry supper appeared on a low table, followed by a glass bowl filled with small, round, white little chocolates.

My eyes bulged. "I say! You can create  _food?_  How does it taste?" Without waiting for a proper response, I grabbed one of the chocolates and brought it to my lips. It smelled delightful. When I wrapped it in my tongue, the sweet sensation sent my eyelids fluttering shut.  _"Oh!_  This is simply delicious. Why, any food created with  _Fairykind_  magic isn't much more than solidified smoke and dust. This is something else entirely!"

"It is not all bad to be a genie," Liloei agreed,  _gong_ ing up a platter of cheeses and crackers for herself. She settled herself on her back, stretched across the couch I had requested she create. The tip of her tail dangled over the far arm in a twirl of purple smoke. "Our magic is near infinite, so long as we are either within our lamps, or canst combine our magic with that of heartfelt desire spoken by a non-magical creature. Only, it is a shame to be trapped inside."

"Speak for yourself," I said through a mouthful of creamy white chocolate. "Why, I could live this way forever!"

Silence fell between us. We lowered our gazes and ate without speaking for a time. I thought of my Mum, her burn scars faded into her fur and her staff in hand. I thought of Augustus, weeping like the baby he was about the cruel words I'd said to him before embarking on my  _canetis_. I thought of Mona, with her gentle giggles and constant humming, and Ashley, who had grown so big and strong, and Caden, with his face pinched as though he held a row of pins in his mouth, and Electro, who hadn't seemed much like a friend to me in more recent years. I thought of all of them. I rubbed my hands into my eyes without bothering to wipe the chocolate smears from my fingertips.

"Liloei?" I asked. "Where do genies go when they die?"

She lowered her drumstick, chewing as she thought. "Death, perhaps, is frightening. I witnessed the drowning of my mother. I have this to say: A genie is a creature of flame and ashes. My mother spoke often of forests and soil. The ash of trees that burned gave strength to new saplings. Young life emerged. Fire is both the end and beginning of growth. I believe it only natural that a genie should be born again, much as a phoenix is born from ashes of her own."

"Wait." I popped my middle claw from my mouth. "Here now, what's this? You believe in reincarnation too?"

Liloei sat up, the plate resting in her lap all but forgotten. "So dost thou?"

"But of course! The universe is all one ring, really. A soul contains the most powerful magic there is, and cannot be destroyed no matter how hard you try. Inevitably, what existed before shall return to the mortal world to exist again. Their strongest memories, characteristics, and desires often bleed over into their successive lives. Although, I imagined only Anti-Fairies believed in such things."

I glanced down at my stomach area, so young and flat and… forcibly barren. My fingers traced spirals through my fur. Ooh. I wondered if the ancestor I'd been reincarnated from (If I had been reincarnated at all) had longed for children as much as I now did. They must have produced some in the end, or else I couldn't be here today.

It's stupid, so stupid, isn't it? That Fairies I've never met can simply decide to steal my unborn children away from me? I'd wanted to grow old with five pups around me.

Liloei snapped her fingers, refilling her plate in an instant. She braced her hands on the cushion behind her and adjusted her tail until it dangled from the couch to the floor. "Thou art a curious creature, with a tongue of buttered silk and the most fascinating sound to thy voice. Tell me more about thy race."

My cheeks warmed. I set the chocolate box aside. "Oh. Er, what about?"

"What else dost thou believe?"

I gathered that my father had spoken with Liloei and her mother about the basics of Anti-Fairies before. At least, she had originated from my father's canteen. She knew enough to understand that my wand was supposed to channel my magic, and she knew herself to be inside an Anti-Fairy castle. So, I tried to think of something she might not actually know.

"What else do my people believe, you say? Hmm. Well…" I took a thick slice of bread from Liloei's cheese and cracker platter. "We believe in nature spirits. They physically embody various aspects of the universe, including personality and love."

"Yes, I know the Fire spirit. Saturn is your name for him."

I nibbled on the corner of my bread. "Um… We believe in companionship. Anti-Fairies are a social species. So as unpleasant as it is to be trapped within your lamp, I count myself grateful that I don't have to be in here alone. We believe wild umbrae can be tamed. And… we believe in karmic weaves."

Liloei perked up mid-yawn when she heard that last one. "What art those? I am unfamiliar."

"Oh! See here, darling. Around every living thing - plant and animal alike - exists a lively aura known to Anti-Fairies as a karmic weave." As I spoke, I made a ball with my fist. Crumbs squeezed between my fingers. I shifted my feet. "In its physical manifestation, a karmic weave is a multicoloured construct of webbing which resembles yarn to some degree. Each yarn that makes up the weave represents the relationship between yourself and another creature in the universe you've crossed paths with before. Those who interact with many folk from assorted walks of life gather many threads, whereas those who remain closed-off and uninfluential gather very few. You see, just as nature spirits are physical embodiments of the elements or forces such as dark and light, these threads are physical embodiments of your feelings for other people, laid out for all to see. Well, not really for all to see, for only Anti-Fairies can see them at all. See?"

Liloei licked the strips of meat dangling from the poultry bone in her hand. Her fingers tapped a pattern on her knee. Or at least, the place where her knee would be were her lower half not combined into a single tail. "Perhaps I do know what it is thou speakest of. As a genie, I sense the clumps of energy around those which possess life."

I chuckled. Liloei stopped slurping at her bone.

"Why dost thou laugh at me?"

"Oh, um…" My eyes fell to the bread in my hand. The tip of my tail twitched. "It's just, I believe all magical creatures can do what you said. The ability to detect the  _internal_ presence of magic in another creature is quite literally how and why magical beings are classified separately from nonmagical ones, and why Merfolk are considered mundane. But, Anti-Fairies are special. We detect fluctuations and uneven balance points in the universe in a way even a genie wouldn't be able to, I don't think. We're of the Tao."

Liloei crossed her arms, her bone disappearing with a snap of two fingers. "Show this knowledge thou hast."

"Certainly, if you would care to listen." I forced the confidence into my voice, but heard it fall flat in my own ears. My toe poked out and traced a swirl of black in the marble floor. Both ears went down. How strange, that I could one moment be the most eloquent anti-fairy in the castle, and yet fumble and shy away from all conversation the next.

I glanced up again. Liloei stood… Well, if you wish to call it standing. She hovered by the couch, arms still folded. Her tail flicked and swirled back and forth beneath her. I swallowed one more bite of my bread, then began to pace back and forth. My claws clicked each time they came down on marble.

"Right, then. Um. The karmic weave is crafted from threads of fate. Put in simple terms, whatever happens to your relationships in real life will affect the threads that tie you to that person, and whatever happens to your threads, well… The same is true in the opposite direction. It's from the threads of life that one's yoo-doo doll is sewn, you understand. You see, in all things, there must be balance." Having reached the far corner of my study, I swivelled around. "A healthy karmic weave is one that flows around you, forming itself into clothing or quilts. A weave that suffers from too many knots and bumps in the road will only fray until it tears itself apart. Lies are but flaxen cords, you see, and they wrap around your neck until they strangle you entirely."

A single white chocolate still lay in the box that Liloei had  _gong_ ed up. I plucked it up between my claws as I passed by the sofa again. This, I held so Liloei could see it. "The most crucial element of any karmic weave is its  _locus_. A person with an internal locus is at harmony with their place in the universe. They do not tamper with Mother Nature's ways or Father Time's plans for them. Never going out of their way to push their comfort zone, never closing themselves off from others entirely. They simply  _live._ On a scale which stretches to two extremes, they themselves rest firmly in the middle between both. Hence the word 'internal' in 'internal locus'. Yes, the threads seen in such a weave will be so smooth and delicate and in harmony with the patterns of the universe, they will actually form clothing around the individual, as I afore described. But tip the scales too far into either positive or negative energy, and…" Here I popped the chocolate in my mouth and crunched down hard on the delicious almond inside. "The entire weave becomes structurally unbalanced. And thus, one finds themselves left with an external locus which benefits no one in the long term at all. You see?"

"And such an event is…" Liloei swished the word in her mouth for a moment before arching one eyebrow. "Undesirable?"

I shuddered. Two fingers danced across my mouth. I licked white chocolate from my claws. "Certainly. Balance is the key required to unlock the gates of harmony. For as much as Sunnie holds mastery over Focus, he also holds mastery over its opposite, which is Distraction. As much as Saturn holds mastery over Energy, so he must hold power over both matters of high energy and matters of low energy. How can one say they truly understand health if they have not understood illness? Or joy if they have not experienced strife? Nay! To understand the spirits, my dear, it is vital that one strike the balance within themselves. Only when one forgoes their doubts and pride can one claim mastery over the elements. Only when one strives to be average can one excel. The cycle is endless, darling, and thus our universe is held together at its seams by the ties of karma which bind us all. Those knots, you understand, we must never let fray."

Liloei drew another drumstick from the platter on the sofa's arm. She chewed on the end for a moment as we both reflected on the wonders of the universe. Then she said, "Canst thou see my karmic weave?"

My gaze dropped to my bare toes. I touched the dry blood around my injured eye. "Um. I'm not supposed to know how…"

"But thou dost anyway, doesn't thou?"

"I read it off an old scroll," I admitted. My claws scratched behind my neck. "Er… Yes, I could take a look at your weave for you, but the circumstances have to be just right. For example, I'll be able to see it if you're willing to bare your soul to me. Go on. Cross your fingers behind your back."

She did, with slow movements. As soon as her fingers intertwined, I felt the energy in the room shift towards her. My ears pricked forward on their own. My eyes locked on a particular patch of skin on the left side of Liloei's neck. A thin blue glow loud enough to hear had spread across her skin like a fluorescent spiderweb. The air tasted of honey butter and fried dough. My mouth filled with more drool than it did whenever I smelled hot scones slathered in strawberry jam. I took two steps forward. My wings fluttered at my back. Now  _that_  was fresh karma, ripe for the plucking. It sizzled with steam, strangely salty in the back of my brain.

But when I caught a better look at the few threads stretching out from Liloei's neck, I dropped back onto my heels and  _tsk tsk_ ed. Her base cords were present, but when it came to a colourful weave, my friend was severely lacking. With one hand, I grasped the shimmering purple-blue thread that connected her throat to mine and twirled it around my pointer finger. It turned turquoise between my claws. "I say. You don't have much in the way of juicy gossip there, do you now? Although that's hardly a surprise, come to think of it. As a young genie in a lamp, you've hardly been exposed to other people. You're what we Anti-Fairies call a lightweight."

"What dost that mean?" she asked through a soft yawn.

"Um… I don't know." I dropped the thread and offered Liloei a lopsided shrug. "You have to have centuries of special training to be able to read a karmic weave with any real accuracy. Getting your fortune read by an Anti-Fairy used to be quite popular for cloudland tourists, you know. But, sadly, anything I told you here and now would admittedly be little more than an educated guess. I never much studied such things, and I don't have any books to explain them to me either."

Liloei traced one finger along her hip. "As a genie, I hold the power to manipulate even the tiniest particles of matter. I understand passions of the heart and wishes that are spoken. Canst thou do anything with the weave thou seest?"

I blinked. "Of course. That's the entire purpose of studying such things, after all." I placed my hand to my chest. "Anti-Fairies are beings of the arts and creativity. Anti-Fairies are manipulators, sorcerers, and masters of counterattacks. For example, there are three races of Fairykind, each born with an ability unique to their race. Anti-Fairies can mind-meld, or view another's thoughts, and intimately understand the ways they see the world, us, and themselves. Refracts can see things from a distance from many sets of eyes at once because of their ties to birds, and they tend to raise such creatures as pets or servants. But Fairies and Fairies alone are born with the power of the Principle of Observation." Because I was a gentleman, I did not refer to it by the abbreviated name some of my fellows preferred: "POO."

"What is this?"

"Fairies sweat magical dust. Even they are aware of this. However, Fairies do not understand the intricacies of magic the way we do, because they cannot see karmic weaves. So for example" - Here I took up several loops of Liloei's white base threads in either hand - "If you were a Fairy, and I took hold of your karmic weave like so, I could cross these thick bits near your neck over and tie a few knots that would turn the Principle of Observation against you. Rather than fool those around you…" I demonstrated the Fairyhold Knot appropriately. "I could tie a knot like this one and reverse the flow of your Principle of Observation, effectively plunging your mind into a realm of illusion until I or another Anti-Fairy let you out."

Liloei grabbed the cuffs on her wrists which marked her as a genie still bound to a solid lamp. She settled herself on her "knees" and rubbed her arms up and down.

"Yes," I mused, watching her. "It is a bit much to take in, isn't it?" I shrugged. "Of course, I can only do this under three conditions: First, if someone grants me permission to see their karmic weave by crossing their fingers behind their back (which typically involves an  _enormous_ sense of trust, mind you). Second, if I were the First General and wore Tarrow's sacred red cloak, then I should be able to view the karmic weaves of everyone indiscriminately.  _Or,_  I also wouldn't necessarily require any form of expressed permission if I simply bit the karmic pouch on their neck and tore their threads loose from their soul. Overall, the ability is only so-so useful against a foe in the chaos of battle, you see."

Suddenly, Liloei collapsed on her side, gasping like a landed mermaid. I withdrew my hands with a start. "Oh dear. Liloei?"

"Undo thy knot," she choked out, thrashing her tail. She lashed her hands against the floor, but though her fingers were no longer crossed, her weave did not vanish into thin air. Blinking rapidly, I did as she requested, holding the loops apart in either hand.

"I don't understand. Liloei? I say, are you all right?"

Her thrashing gradually eased. When Liloei forced herself up on her forearms, she shivered from head to tail. She crawled back to the sofa, pulled herself up onto it, and curled herself tight. She wrapped her tail around herself in a little mound. "That strangling force… It bled with agony. It raged like stabbings through my gut. As though thou turned all the awesome cosmic powers which I hold influence over as a genie suddenly against me."

"Really? You mean, the Fairyhold Knot works on other creatures besides Fairies?" My ears twitched forward. I looked down at my hands. "I never wondered about that before. Apparently a skilled Anti-Fairy has the ability to use  _any_ living thing's strengths against it. That's incredibly interesting. Hmm… You know, I wonder what gives the First General cloak the power to let its wearer manipulate the forces of life like this. Perhaps there's a way to gain access to more of that material, and create a second cloak just like it. What precisely is that made of anyway, I wonder? Something heavenly, I imagine…"

I shook my head then, tossing the thought to the rear of my memories. "Oh, never mind. Go on; you can remove your fingers from behind your back now, darling."

My vision faded back to normal. With a tingle like the sort of shock you receive if you're foolish enough to touch the glowing wall of the Barrier, Liloei's threads disappeared from my fingers. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms and glanced up to catch a glimpse of Liloei as she stretched out, her back arched.

"I say. You've been yawning like that a fair amount, haven't you? I suppose there isn't an actual night dictating our resting periods here in this bottle, but is it perhaps time we went to sleep?"

"Time?" Liloei yawned again. Her fingers snapped, with sluggish effort. A basket with a cushion resting inside it like a soup puddle in a dish materialised before the fireplace. I wrinkled my nose, but Liloei didn't appear to find the sight as uncomfortable as I did. She slipped from the sofa and into the air, making her way across the room one bob at a time. "Time is little to a genie. But yes. It is. The influence of my lamp compels me. I have awakened, and now I shalt rest once more."

"Rest?"

Liloei knelt down on the cushion, kneading it with her hands. Her tail swished again. She lay her head on the edge of the basket. One more flick, and her tail disappeared inside with her. "Oh, yes. It is our curse, for a genie  _en lamp_  is built to sleep for many, many days. Our powers art great, but our energy must needs be conserved. The hours I hath been awake already take their toll on me. I must answer their song. But, I shall wake on occasion. Perhaps in a year, or perhaps in five, or fifty more."

"You won't wake for a- What?" I flashed to her side, wings flared behind me. The hat she'd  _gong_ ed up for me bounced between my ears. "No! You can't!" Dropping beside her basket, I shook her shoulder until her eyelids flickered. "Liloei, please! We were just getting to know each other. Don't leave me! Please, don't! I can't be left alone again!"

"I must. I am compelled. Today, I nap. I provided you with food within your cupboards. They shall not spoil here." She opened just one eye. The tip of her tail pressed against my cheek and eased me off. "Perhaps thou may wish to spend this time composing questions to ask me once I wake. I imagine thou canst think up many."

"Liloei! Come back! Come baaaaaack!" I sprang to my feet and covered my mouth. I wept unabashedly. My wings jittered. What was I to do? Liloei appeared determined to sleep, possibly for the remainder of our imprisonment. However long that may be. Perhaps… I could try waking her again once she had enough time to rest?

When I blinked and looked about, I was alone. Liloei slept at my feet, not even snoring. She had simply slipped away. Rather easily, too. My claws bit my lips. My throat swelled shut. This was just like the moment from my hazy dream. The dream where I was trapped alone - so alone - and no one cared enough to save me.

I'd never felt more detached from Clarice than I did in that moment. All was cold and silent, both around me and in my head. Nothing, nothing, no one at all.

"No!" I slammed my foot down on the floor. My knees hit it next. Then my fists, swing by swing. "That's not fair! Liloei,  _don't leave me!_  Don't go!"

Only, she did go, as though she heard a lullaby sung from far away.

My wail quivered down into a sob. I'd begun to shake as I gasped. I raised my head, flicking my attention from side to side in time with the whimper fighting for life in my chest. The wall where the missing door had been mocked me just as wildfires mock candle wicks. I shrieked at it, wishing I had something within reach to hurl. My toes curled inward.

This was it, then. I was going to age in here, die in here, and that would be that. It was all coming back to me. Imprisonment. Cages. My rights stripped away. The absolute certainty that I had been locked up like this once before, with my slippered feet unable to stand firmly on solid ground- The fist that wasn't pinned to the wall clenched at my chest while tears as hot as Fairy blood streamed down my quiet cheeks. Slipping to my knees and crying out for aid. Yes. Yes. In the Anti-Eros tower, imprisoned in my jar, unborn. I remembered that. That was an experience I barely recalled at the worst of times, but which haunted my nightmares nonetheless.

It all came back to me now. Cold walls. Glass walls smudged by many passing hands. No chair, no chair, no chair. Stuck there to cry. And no one to rescue me. No Augustus, no Anti-Venus, no Anti-Charite, no Anti-Ludell, no Huey, no Vinnie, no Cherry, no Stamp, my Stamp, never Stamp; he let them take me away and never even visited-

_Stop it._

The ancient memory dissipated into curls of smoke. Chills prickled across my spine. I sat back on my heels, my fangs shaking to their roots.

Focus.

Right. I shoved my hands up through my hair. My bangs fluttered down again. I squared my shoulders. Getting up, I walked over and opened one of the lower drawers of my desk. Fine. If Liloei planned to sleep and leave me with no one to talk to and a heap of research papers I'd already read a hundred times, then I would entertain myself another way. From the drawer, I drew out an old scroll that only had words on one side. I'd memorised most of it. This would do for my purposes.

My next task was to pull my desk away from the wall. Once I had it where I wanted, I pushed it around so it faced the rest of the room, rather than plain wood. The view was nice, because it was different than what I'd grown accustomed to over the last forty years, but a pit opened in my stomach as I drank in how small the place really was. Particularly now that there were two of us living in this one room, and we had stuffed it with cabinets and chairs. With a shake of my head, I settled in my desk chair to begin my work.

I started by drawing something simple: The sofa against the wall. I studied it with both my eyes and echolocation for several minutes before I even got to work. First I traced the curve of its back, then outlined each of its cushions with thick black ink on my parchment. When I was done, I held the finished product away from me.

"Hmm," I said, not impressed. I let it drop to the floor and took up a new scroll instead. When I had first begun learning the ways to channel good karma, or summon umbrae on purpose, I hadn't been very good at it. I had worked hard nonetheless. It had taken time. Effort. Patience. And so, figuring there was little to do in my prison while my only companion slept, I taught myself to draw.

I worked for what may have been hours, and may have been days. I must have drawn that accursed sofa a grand total of three hundred times. Somewhere in the middle, I lost interest and painted my books and shelves instead. But the important thing, I told myself, was that I kept at it. If nothing else, it helped distract my mind from my frostbitten legs. They blackened every day, shooting sharp pains through my feet. I'd have to ask Liloei if there was anything she could do about that.

My desk was more difficult to draw than the sofa. Partially because it was so much more cluttered, with little details everywhere, and because I found it difficult to draw its front while using the desk to bear down on my scroll. I improvised a new solution, and took to lying on the floor on my stomach instead.

Drawing the desk a thousand times frustrated me immensely. Focusing was always a struggle. I was more of a reader and composer than a painter. It took time for me to adjust to having only the one eye. Some days I didn't want to have anything to do with the desk, and I decided that was okay. Most, I forced myself to at least pick up my brush. Once the brush was in my hand, it was easier to start.

I didn't always enjoy it. Some days I cried. But always, I gritted my fangs and hunted for another sheet of parchment so I might start all over again. If nothing else, I had a great deal of parchment in my study. And when I ran out, I supposed I could paint the floor. It was the ink I expected to run out of first. Once Liloei woke, I would have to ask her to create some more. How delightful, to be caught in the company of someone who could create anything at all out of the literal magic in the air.

But for now, I drew everything. And I do mean everything. Stacks of scrolls. Cobwebs in the corners. Boxes of food I pulled from the cupboards. Peels of fruit that rapidly stacked high. Liloei herself, tucked in her basket like a content ghost.

I learned her body by studying her with my gaze lifted for a moment, and then drawing her with my eyes firmly downcast, always refusing to peek at all to check my work until I was done. She had a face, with features. Arms with sloped wrists and slender fingers. One tail which I loved to end in a spiral with a great flourish. Oh, yes. One sketch at a time, I taught myself how a genie's parts fit together.

Her shape was beautiful. In many respects, I found her easier to draw than my desk. Whereas my desk had sharp corners and fine details, Liloei's edges were rounded as crumpet tops, and they all sort of smudged together into one smoky blend. Her fingers were gentle, untipped by anti-fairy claws. She slept with her hands folded beneath her cheek, as still as a ship in a bottle.

The ink held out. Amazingly. I don't know how long it was before Liloei woke, but when she did, the first words to blurt from my mouth were not a request for ink at all.

"Liloei?" I lifted my parchment and brush. "Before you fall asleep again, may I please draw you? Awake?"

As she sat up in her basket, she rubbed her eyes with both hands. "Oh?"

"I've been practicing. I'm getting good at this, I really am. Here, let me draw you."

"Food," she mumbled, lifting her fingers to snap. She chose poultry and mashed potatoes, with gravy cascading down the side into a dish of cranberry sauce.

So while she feasted, I traced her features out with my new supply of  _gong_ ed-up purple ink. Liloei had granted me a supply that stacked to the ceiling- more than enough to last me through her next hibernation period. She also granted me a curious contraption operated by gears and blinking lights which created any item of food I could want at the press of a button. Yes, that one was my idea. Thank you, I know. Eating the same old nuts and cereals had gotten dull.

"Thou hast been learning to draw all this time?"

"Why, of course! After all, I had to do something to keep myself busy whilst you were napping on."

We looked at my attempted portrait of her together, and both burst into jolly laughter.

"Oh well," I said, rolling up the scroll. I patted it against my hand. "You can't hold this against me. Despite my best efforts, it would seem that the face of a genie is much more difficult to get right than the lamp of one. Now then, what's for breakfast on my end of things? I say, if you merely whip up the ingredients, I'll see if I can't turn them into an actual meal, hm?"

And, well… So it was. Liloei and I resided together in her lamp, alone apart from the company of her powerful magic. She slept often, and when she did, I plotted, drew, and researched the texts I had every day. I called upon the spirits by kneeling before my father's hand-carved blessing tokens, and waited for the Tooth Fairy to visit me to no avail. No one came.

Time became but a memory. We aged, I suppose, though growth was gradual. Over time, we gathered that genies aged much faster than Anti-Fairies did. For one day, Liloei and I were children together. We had the same interests, we played the same games. Seemingly the next day, she became so much older in my eyes. I'd never known Liloei to wear clothing before, but suddenly she insisted on it, and I realised she had come into her grown-up form.

Had I too grown so much? I constantly checked the length of my tail, which I always let dangle beneath the edge of my rapidly-shrinking tunic in Liloei's presence, as she didn't consider such behaviour to be scandalous and I found it immensely freeing. My tail remained scrappy and thin. It became difficult not to pout about that. I was descended from Her Glory Cadmea. When I came into adulthood, it was supposed to bloom as thick and lovely as a fox's. I knew it would. It would! Someday. Where were my mother's genes now that I truly needed them? Bah, rubbish.

Our friendship maintained regardless. I refused to let a detail as trivial as age ruin what Liloei and I had.

"Liloei?" I asked during one tentative game of fidchell. "How old are we now?"

She lay on her stomach, her tail curled around the leg of my desk chair behind her. "I am unsure."

I tapped my claws. "But if you were to venture a guess, how old might you say?"

Liloei sighed. Her gaze didn't leave the board. She slid her High Count to one side. The pieces weren't exact replicas, for Liloei hadn't known the game and I'd had to describe them to her as best as I could. "I am not as young as I used to be, Julius. There art wrinkles on my face now. I gradually near the end of my childbearing years."

"Oh." I selected my next words carefully, eternally grateful for the many centuries (Were they millennia?) we'd spent fostering our friendship. "How long do genies typically live?"

I'd made a move with one of my pieces, and Liloei stared at it blankly, her arms folded beneath her. The tip of her tail wavered back and forth. "My mother told me that a genie bound to her lamp will live forever, unless she becometh soaked in water and is not hastily dried. However, it is around age 100,000 that a genie entereth the elder stage of her life. This stage is known among genies as 'dormancy.' A genie's strength fades during these sunset years. If she hast not escaped her lamp by that age… then she never shall. She and her magic will be too weak."

I gazed at the board too, tongue in my cheek. "Well. We have each other."

"I wanted to bear baby candles," she said softly. She used just one finger to move another game piece. "Your father always promised… he would take me to the Eros Nest once I came of age. Perhaps I would meet a buck there, and he could grant me candles then."

"And I wanted pups," I said, closing my eyes. "A lot of them, too. How I wish I could have raised them alongside your candles. We would have had the best time of it. Think of it- our respective offspring as close as cousins."

"Perhaps it shall be so in another lifetime. We shalt find each other again."

Not unless I bore pups. Genies believed in total reincarnation, regardless of bloodlines. They believed they could become anyone or anything, just as any plant capable of taking root in fertile volcanic soil could bloom to brilliance. That wasn't how it worked, though… Anti-Fairies believed differently.

"Liloei?" My core began to beat, filling my cheeks with a flushing cold. "I have a question."

She leaned her head on her arms, studying the game board. "Thou always hast questions."

"This one is completely hypothetical, though. Something I've never asked you before. I just… You see, I wondered if it was possible to use your genie magic to make me older. Say, by entire millennia."

"Yes. My powers art near infinite within mine vessel. Of course, wert thou ever to leave it, my influence over thee wouldst fade. Without a wish, my powers art bound to mine lamp."

I turned my head away, leaning my cheek on one hand. When my tongue rasped across my lips, it was dry. "So… While I'm inside your lamp, do you think you could change the way I look? Could you - as a hypothetical - Could you even turn me into… a genie?"

"Yes."

My eyelids flickered shut. "A-and if I were a genie buck of age, then… Does that mean I would be capable of fathering your candles too?"

Her fingers clenched. Her mouth set itself into a frown. "Yes. So long as thou didst not leave this place."

We were silent, as we so often were. My mind churned as though through hardening lava. Take on a genie form, and a genie wife? Was that really what I wanted? Could I even go through with the process if it was?

Baby candles.

Baby candles.

I had hesitations. I was Fairykind, and had always imagined remaining such. Perhaps… I might question her again in a few millennia more, when I was just a bit older. Before Liloei left her reproductive years behind for good. Could she change her own age with genie powers? Or was that one matter which genie powers were forbidden from interfering with? Did she even know? Dare she even try to manipulate her inner parts? Would that place her life at risk?

Imagine it. Me, an actual genie. I could give my dearest friend those baby candles she wanted, and we could raise them together.

 _Children_  of my  _own_.

I swore in that instant that I would always love and look after all my children the way a father should. Even if they were genies.

"My counterparts would die," I said, scratching at the back of my hand. I didn't look up. "Believe me, I researched everything related to Fairykind reproduction I could get my hands on when I was younger. There was so much to read concerning the core and the lines I use to breathe. I'm afraid that were I turned into a genie, one of two things would happen. Either my connection to Cosmo Prime and Dame Cosmo would snap, killing them both and forcing me to remain as a genie forever lest I die with them… Or the full extent of my genie powers would wash through my lines, flood them both, and drown them in so much raw magic that they would both die anyway."

Liloei raised her head. "Thy 'lines'? Is this thy karmic weave again?"

I shifted around to face her for the first time since our game began, my knuckles resting against my lips. "Mm… Sort of, to some degree, but also no. These metaphysical 'magic lines' - breathing lines as they are sometimes called - are what connect me to my counterparts, you must understand. Cosmo Prime is known as the 'hosting counterpart', for it is he that Dame Cosmo and I are synced up to. When he is afflicted with illness or serious injury, such things are reflected on me. When he bears a nymph, Dame Cosmo will bear a chick and I will have a pup. The three of us all share the same core."

"Ah." Liloei made an illegal move with one piece. She knew it, too. Only, she stared at it without emotion instead of pulling it back. "What is a core, precisely?"

"Oh. A core is…" Sitting up on my knees, I held my hands around my head. "Erm, that is to say… It's a bit complicated to explain in full, but I'll try as best as I can. You see, my forehead dome is capable of opening."

Liloei blinked one time. I nodded.

"Yes. It opens back as though on a hinge, revealing many of my inner organs to the world. As Fairykind, we keep many of our organs inside our heads, thereby freeing up the space in our stomach areas for the pouches we use to birth and carry pups. Through time and magic, our ancestors evolved in the way they found was best for us."

"My lower body is made of smoke, and I feed off magic rather than physical food," she said with a slight shrug. "Little surprises me now."

I smiled. "Anyhow, the core is one of our organs. Your core is your deepest self. Your core is your life force, and it consists of two layers. The outer layer of the core is malleable. In the early years of life, it becomes a physical thing. Over time, it may change shape and form slightly, but never become different to the point of being unrecognisable."

Liloei was giving me a strange look, so I said, "If you are a person who enjoys to paint, perhaps your core may manifest as a set of paints which never run out. If you are easily lost or have an adventurous spirit, perhaps your core might become a compass to tell you the way, or a retractable light which can light the path before you. Of course, it's only the hosting counterpart whose personality determines what the core shall manifest as. Their two counterparts share the same one regardless. Magic is an integral part of our being, and the life-giving organ of our bodies reflects that to the most powerful degree."

The strange look did not fade away. A low chill crawled about in my cheeks.

"Well, anyway. It's the inner layer, the core of the core, which contains your  _soul_ : a tiny white ball buried deep within you that holds your entire wealth of memories and abilities." I held both my hands to my chest. "Some Anti-Fairies are born in the cloudlands as 'new souls', whereas others may be 'old souls', who are a reincarnated version of a past self. Personalities of old souls are ofttimes similar to who they were in their past life, but the way they are raised and the traits they inherit from their parents can all influence the way their personality develops in this lifetime."

"I see it is as thou sayest."

I held up a finger to keep her attention on me. "It goes on. Your  _core trait_  is what binds you to your two counterparts. It's a single, solid trait deeply rooted in your personality that you share with your counterparts, and which all three of you feel an indescribably intense connection to. In our culture, we believe it inappropriate to tell anyone what your core trait is unless you trust them very deeply."

Liloei nodded, her eyes crossed in thought. "Wouldst thou consider opening thy head? I am curious to see thy core."

"Oh! I, um…" I turned my face away, covering my mouth with the heel of my hand. "I don't know. I- I think it's supposed to be private. I'm not sure why, though. I just… remember being told I wasn't supposed to show it off."

"Ah." She returned her attention to our game. The bored look returned to her eyes. She started to yawn. Recently her naps had been lasting longer. I scratched behind my ear.

"Er… Well, I suppose I could tell you about mine, if you really are curious. You are, I suppose, my dearest friend. Look here. Most cores do manifest into a physical thing. However, Cosmo's core never manifested into anything but a sort of, well… Pocket." I traced my claw through the air. "If I knew my current age, there's a mathematical formula I know that would allow me to calculate how much mass ought to be able to fit inside my pocket. Do you have any clue how old I am?"

She shook her head.

"Hmm…" I tapped my cheek. "Well, seeing as it is quite literally a 'pocket space', I suppose that at this time, I would be able to squish an entire person in my head, provided that person isn't too large. Pocket spaces are interesting that way. You can fit so many things."

Liloei sat up. Her tail flicked out with a snap. She fixed her stare on me as though I'd lost my mind. "Thy head is a what?"

"A pocket space. You know." I made jaws with my hands. "My head opens and shuts. I can store things within it. I swear you've seen me drop things inside once or twice before, although I rarely see the need to."

"The chamber of thy head… opens… and it seals shut too? Entirely?"

"I suppose so. It's quite fascinating, really, since one wonders what it means for Cosmo if our shared core became so- What- What are you doing?"

Fully in the air now, Liloei drifted over to my side of the board. "May I see?"

I leaned away, bracing my weight on my palms. "Um… I really don't know how I feel about that."

"Oh, Julius." Liloei touched her fingertips to my cheek. "Were I planning to practice moves on thee, I would have done so long before this. Our rates of aging are far different. I am becoming an old woman now, and thou art but a young juvenile."

I arched my eyebrows, unable to repress my favorite smirk. "Ha! I say! Lily, my darling, if I didn't know you as well as I do, I should think you just implied that I am not much of a looker."

"And how dost thou know I didn't?"

"Confound you, feisty woman." Obligingly, I lifted my hands to my forehead and pushed it back. It unhinged silently, as these things often do. Funny, really. I found I wasn't nearly as embarrassed to display some of the more intimate parts of my body to Liloei as I perhaps should have been. We were the dearest of friends, after all.

Liloei bunched her tail, gave it a flick, and then slipped inside my head. I felt her fumble around for a moment before she found the pocket to one side, between my brain and kidneys, I think. Then her body compressed into a thin ribbon, and she vanished completely from my awareness. I couldn't detect the presence of her magic whatsoever. She was gone for several seconds. Then she poked her head out again. "Julius, thy head would make the perfect genie lamp."

I touched my ear. "What? But- No. You're joking."

"I do not jest. But, I couldst make a home for myself in here. Close thy lid, and thy head alone shall be my vessel."

My knees morphed to sudden pudding. I staggered into my desk. My old desk, my forgotten desk. My fingers clenched wood. "Close it after you? You mean… A-are you sure?"

"Yes."

"And…" I stared at the place on my wall where my door had been so long ago. My throat strangled me from the inside out. "Then you'll have an entirely new lamp."

"Yes."

"Which means my study will no longer be your lamp at all."

"Yes."

"Which means it's over. The door to my study should come back, and I'll be free to simply walk out of here."

"That is the idea."

"No. No, this couldn't work. It can't."

Her fingers traced around the lid of my open dome. "Oh, but if it could, Julius? Wouldn't thou fight for it with every ember of thy being?"

I clenched my bangs to either side of my eyes. "Oh gods, I- I'm not ready to go back to the Castle. There are so many people out there! A-and what about you? Liloei, you can't! You'll be trapped in my head, and I won't be there to keep you company. I don't want to leave you!"

"Thou canst always enter thy study again, and block the space beneath the door before thou openeth thy head. Then I shall be free to slip into thy room." Liloei patted the edge of my skull from the inside. "I shall always be with thee, Julius. But I beg thee to grant me one request."

"Liloei?" Tears blurred my vision like mist in a rain cloud. This  _couldn't be happening_  to me. Our friendship was essentially over, just like that? She didn't even want to finish our game? What about me? What about my needs? I cupped my hands against my mouth, catching the swirls of magic that bled between my fangs. "Don't go… I don't want to be alone again."

She bowed her head. "As my request, I wish thou wouldst try thy hardest to find a buck genie who should take me. I wish to birth young candles. Then, I shalt be happy."

No. No, it wasn't fair! She would rather I cart her away to some stranger she could breed with, not caring at all for the values of true and endless love?

And yet… Were our positions reversed and she was the anti-fairy, wouldn't I beg her to grant me the same kindness? To find me a genie doe so I might hold children of my own in my arms before it became too late for me?

My wings shuddered. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Oh. Oh. Of course, Liloei… Don't worry, darling. You're safe in my hands. Or rather, in my head." I swallowed the acid blistering my throat, and smeared the tears across my cheeks with my hand. "I'm okay," I lied. "Okay. Now, go back there in my pocket. I'll shut my lid."

She went. And I did. I felt the zing of magic ring my forehead like a crown of fire, and knew I wouldn't be able to pry off my lid no matter how hard I tried once I left this room. I didn't want to open my eyes, but I did that too.

The walls were the first things to disappear. Swirling magic picked up around me, ruffling my fur in all directions. The wood disappeared, and stones took their place. Then the pink marble floor. The couch. My roost of bone. The cupboards. The ink from all my drawings, stacked on cabinets that no longer existed. Bit by bit, every magical change in my study returned to the way it had been before Liloei and I had become friends. My tunic shrank around me, constraining my limbs until my claws were forced to tear them. The chamber pot filled with an unpleasant stench. The books Liloei had created for me burned themselves to ashes until even the ashes disappeared. My beloved tall hat faded away.

It came out of smoke. By the time I turned around, the door had fully materialised, and a beautiful, looping handle was just uncurling from the wood. I looked around my study, empty of scrolls and fancy clothing, and all of a sudden felt very afraid. It had been Liloei and I in that tiny room for so incredibly long. Could… could I even stand to be around other people again? What if I'd forgotten how?

But I was an Anti-Lunifly. And an Anti-Lunifly fights to fly forward fearlessly. I squared my shoulders up and tucked in my chin. Then I walked over to the door, took hold of the handle, and pressed my thumb down on the elegant latch.

The door opened towards me instead of away. I felt as though I were leaving my own home, not as though I were just stepping out from a small closet. I expected resistance when I left the study, but there wasn't any. Would there be any if I were carrying any of the items that Liloei had created with her genie powers? Might the door force me back then?

I found myself in a black, unlit corridor. The only light around flickered from the candle I'd left burning in my study. Even my sonar knew this hall was deserted. I closed the door behind me, then opened it experimentally again. The force of it flickered the candle's flame, but otherwise, nothing had changed. I was back in the Blue Castle, outside my study on the third floor, as if I had never left.

"Lily?" I asked the pressing silence. I touched my fingertips to one temple.

She did not answer me with words that were distinct, but her purr rattled deep within my head, and comforted me the way that only Liloei could. I stared down the corridor in the direction I knew I would find the stairs, and swallowed. I took my elbows in my hands and shivered once. Well. As long as I had Liloei, I wasn't afraid of what I might find around that corner.

Flying was a distant memory, and a useless waste of energy for a trek that would only take me around my own home. Or what had been my home long ago, anyway. I walked down the carpeted hall, my bare feet squishing in the dark. At least, that was the plan. I made it only so far before my shaking legs gave out. Of course. Lileoi's cure for my frostbite had faded away too. My legs were in horrid condition, discoloured and painful. Walking was a struggle. So I flew the rest of the way on sore wings. My twitching ears detected no sound, all the way up until I reached the stairs that flowed down to the Castle's second level. Voices floated up to me from far away, and I detected the glow of torchlight.

"They're eating supper in the great hall," I whispered. My stomach whined pitifully at the thought. How I missed sitting down at a table to enjoy food in a large social setting.

I could hardly remember the last time I descended a flight of stairs. The morning of my  _canetis_ , I suppose. It's hilarious. The act is so frightfully mundane, you would never think you'd miss it. And even when it isn't there, you'd still never think of manifesting the idea into reality. But for the moment, I was grateful to have the stairs, even if skimming my way down them proved difficult and made me chuckle to myself.

I drifted into the great hall with the same confidence I'd show if I had eaten there every day of my life. No one turned around. No one noticed me. I made it almost all the way up to the high table before people realised someone was breaking social norms, and approaching the High Count, High Countess, First General, and heir to the High Count seat at suppertime (and with tattered, undersized clothes and blackened legs to boot). It was longer still before people realised that person was me.

Anti-Elina saw me coming as the first hushes began to fall across the hall. She glanced at Winslow, sitting on her left side… Good smoke, he'd grown so much. His face was filling out, his thin body not far behind. His floppy hat barely smothered his anti-swanee horns.

Anti-Bryndin was seated on Anti-Elina's other side, and Anti-Buster on his. I stopped in front of them, placed an arm across my waist, and bowed.

"Esteemed High Count. Esteemed High Countess. My prince. I should say, it has been quite some time since I have had the pleasure of seeing your divine faces light my day with copper-coated brightness. I hope I am not intruding terribly, and that you have room for me to dine in the great hall this evening, but I found it most appropriate to greet you before I simply sat upon a bench to eat."

Anti-Bryndin made a squeaking sound in the back of his throat. Anti-Elina tightened her fingers around her cutlery. Winslow shrank uncertainly against his father's side. All three of them turned to Anti-Buster, sitting just as I remembered in the far left seat of the high table. His hands rested in his lap, and he had Tarrow's crimson cloak wrapped as per usual around his shoulders. As the three others turned to him, he rose quietly and came around to my side. I shifted back, glancing out over all the other tables in the great hall. Though a few conversations here and there littered the room, overall, it had gone very quiet.

"Julius," Anti-Buster said. He held out his upturned palms like a bowl. I hadn't forgotten the Anti-Fairy way of greeting people. Quickly, I slipped my hands into his so he might examine them. He did, very carefully. "It's… a pleasure to see you again, sir. I had my doubts Tarrow would guide you back to us any time soon. Would you step outside for a moment so I might have a word with you?"

He started to lead me to the door in the corner behind the high table, which led directly into the hallway where one could find the offices of both the High Count and the High Countess. I pulled back my arm. "Hold on a moment. I mean no disrespect, Anti-Buster sir, but will this take very long? I'm quite famished, and all that griffin meat laid out on the tables looks absolutely scrumptious. May I grab a bite to eat and catch up with my friends this evening? I have so been looking forward to making contact with Mona again. Oh. And Augustus too, absolutely."

Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina both put down their silverware in unison and looked off in opposite directions. Anti-Buster brought his hand behind my arm, and motioned over the crowd. "Who do you see out there, Julius?" he asked. His voice was very low, very gentle.

Curious question. Why was he asking this?

"I… see…" I stared blankly over the ocean of curious blue faces. I looked to the left side of the hall, where Augustus always,  _always_  sat beside my mother at the front table. Neither was there. Only a few members I remembered from the camarilla court, and others whose identities I was less certain about. I swung my head to the right side of the great hall. The popular kids - the ones who had found Tarrow's match for them in the Castle gardens, or the ones like Ashley whom everyone knew because of the circumstances surrounding his birth and whom no one disliked - always,  _always_  sat at the table on the far right, just underneath the tall windows.

But I didn't see Ashley, or Electro, or Mona. No Prickle. No Tumble. No one that I knew. The pups and young juveniles sitting there now were strangers to me.

They were strangers. All of them.

Oh my gods. I mean, yes _, of course,_  but-!

I clenched my hand around my elbow, pulling away from the stares of the crowd. My lower back bumped against the high table. I screamed. Liloei jumped deep within my head. Even before anyone said the words, I snapped all the puzzle pieces into place myself. Both hands went up to my mouth.

"Oh my smoke! Why, that should have been the first question out of my mouth. It's so obvious. How long has it been? Anti-Buster, I- I was imprisoned, you see, and it felt like forever, and I- How long has it been, exactly? H-how long was I gone?"

Anti-Buster took my shoulders and forced me to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the high table, in spite of my trembling. Once I had, he knelt down beside me. His eyes, still pink, gently touched my brain. His words cleaved my spirit like a carrot in a rabbit's mouth.

"It's the Autumn of the Slicing Ripples now, Julius. You've been missing for over 68,000 years."


	15. Where We Set Our Fires

_In which the Autumn of the Slicing Ripples occurs, and Julius adjusts to life following his lengthy imprisonment in Liloei's lamp_

* * *

The eyes gazing back at me from the washroom's elaborate mirror were the eyes of a 68,756-year-old. They hadn't fully dried. Or the "eye," anyway. The one that hadn't gone blind. Even when Caden floated the scissors and brushes around my head, snipping and combing out long tufts of my scruffy hair, I didn't want to blink. Sometimes I had to, with crusty pain. My face was warm. Too warm. I rather suspected I had a fever, although I didn't wish for this information to get out just yet. I ached all over.

"Where is Augustus?" I finally managed to ask. I leaned back on my padded stool. To think that only two hours ago, I'd been tucked away inside a genie's lamp. Now, Caden and I had staked out the grand washroom just off the preening chamber where Anti-Bryndin entertained Fairy guests. Because the washroom pool was kept filled with chemicals that would kill our ticks and fleas but badly burn our eyes and mouths, I'd never been allowed in here unsupervised before. But that had been when I was young, and I was a child no longer. Not anymore. I cleared my throat. "Yes, that's his name. May I speak with Augustus?"

Caden pressed the teeth of a seashell comb against my skull and wrestled with a filthy knot. Even several dunks underwater hadn't shaken off all the dirt I'd accumulated over the millennia. He wrinkled his nose. "Regret to say your brother hasn't lived in the Castle for centuries, matey."

I stared at the mirror again, a lump welling up just below my chin. It bobbed when I swallowed. "O-oh. That's only to be expected, I imagine, for it's typical of Anti-Fairy drakes to leave their birth colony by the age of 150,000… and he had no need to stay here any longer. He's nearly 100,000 now, isn't he? And aren't you, Caden?"

"'Round about there, ta."

"And… do you miss him? I mean, he was in your creche for the longest time. You were paired up for Tarrow dances every cycle."

"He chose his path. No winds blow the same, and we must all sail our own seas, aye?"

"I see… What about Mona, then? Is she here? I'd like to see her."

He had to think about that one for a moment, brushing the sideways sweep of his hair even further to the left in an old, familiar way. "The dame be living with her mothers in the Anti-Bentleaf colony, I'm afraid."

I turned my head, and the teeth of one of the hovering brushes snagged in my hair. "When did you last see her?" Dare I ask? I had to, with force. "Did she mention if she'd been re-betrothed?"

"Can't be sure. Haven't seen the wee lass in three centuries or more."

"Can I talk to my mum?" I murmured, turning away again. I rubbed my forehead with the heel of my hand.

Caden hesitated. The scissors strayed quite close to my good eye. I eased them back with one claw. "Aye," he said. "But I would advise ye to think on that decision for a long while first. You know your mum as well as I do… In fact, I may know her better now. It be Saturday. She travelled far to the Fire Temple and has yet to return. Think she mentioned it was that time of year, and she wanted to stop by your father's memorial on the way home."

My claw stayed against the scissors. They gnawed at the end. Still, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Caden's reflection. A rush of cold sped through my lines and made Liloei shiver in my head. My voice fell into a flat strip. "What?"

"Your mum ought to hail home soon, matey. I understand that word of your return was sent to her crystal ball. On her staff," he added, as if he thought I could have forgotten. He intended his words to be comforting, I'm sure, but they only urged me to clench my fangs.

"No. No, that can't be right at all. I'm sorry. No disrespect intended, old sport, but you're mistaken. My father doesn't have a memorial. If he did, I would know about it."

Caden only shrugged. I sighed. All right, fine. My gaze roamed again to the mirror before me, flanked with carved stone roses and ivy vines. I brought my knees to my chest.

"Caden? Do you ever do something impulsively smokeforsaken stupid, and after doing it, feel incredibly in touch with one of your recent past lives?"

He thought about it, sucking on his bottom lip. "Can't say particularly that I've felt such a shiver in me timbers. Mayhaps every now and again in a distant blue harvest moon. Why? Do you feel a connection?"

I pressed my thumbs to my temples and rubbed them around. "Frankly, I have the strangest urge to cocoon myself in tar and feathers just to warm my wings. A silk blanket would be nice. Good smoke, it's bloody cold in here. What happened while I was away? Did we lose a war against a frost giant?"

Caden chuckled. "The wind blows about the Castle just as she always has. Wherever ye parked your rear for the last 68,000 years must've been mighty toasted." He set the comb down, reaching for a larger brush. "Where might that be, anyway?"

"Um…"

Alas, poor Caden. How was I to explain I had bottled myself inside a genie's lamp? As fond as I was of my friend, I found myself reluctant to volunteer that information. Word tended to get around in a colony. There would be so many questions, such scrutiny, all the demands to know how I had successfully found the loophole that had granted my freedom from her lamp, and all the scornful sideways looks as my peers sized me up and made passing remarks on the close nature of my relationship with the softer sex of another species.

And Mona… Acid bubbled in my throat when I thought of her. I bent my head. How was I to speak with her again, to pick up where we had left off as though the last sixty and a half millennia had never happened? I wasn't quite certain if I considered my relationship with Liloei a romantic one. She and I had never kissed, but… after my 68,700 years in the company of my genie friend and she alone, had I…? Was it possible that I might feel just a little…?

The door to the washroom swung open behind us. I stared in the mirror and Caden turned around. Anti-Elina floated back inside. She reached up and set her crystal ball on its high bronze rack as before. "I just got off scrying with Ambrosine Whimsifinado," she said over her shoulder. "He's been worried to tears about you ever since you disappeared. I asked him if he would come and speak with you before we integrate you straight back into busy Blue Castle life. He'll help us move at the most comfortable pace for you. He's meeting us at the Breath Temple once you've finished with your regeneration. That will cure you of the frostbite Sunnie left across your legs."

I winced as Caden snipped off a lock of my hair that I'd particularly liked right around my ear. "Oh, dear. Anti-Elina, are there any Anti-Fairies who do therapy work like Ambrosine does?"

She paused beside the water basin. Her expression shifted from strictly business to concern. "What do you mean?"

My gaze dropped to my lap. "Um. High Countess, I recognise and appreciate your concern for me. It's true I have been locked up in my study for the last nearly 70,000 years. Perhaps it would indeed help me to speak with a therapist one on one for some time. I only wish my therapist could be an Anti-Fairy, you know what I mean? Is there an Anti-Fairy who could be my therapist?"

"That isn't our way, Julius. You know that."

Right. Anti-Fairies had been denied educational opportunities since the war. My parents' generation had grown up behind the Barrier's shiny green walls. Who was there to turn to but a wealthy Fairy?

Anti-Elina helped me rinse my hair (what was left of it) while Caden cleaned and packed away the tools. I had to float (albeit awkwardly since I was out of practice) because if I braced any weight on my legs, they would wobble too much. When I turned to leave, he embraced me.

"I'm glad you made it home dandy fine, matey. We've missed yer witty tongue."

I hugged him back, burrowing my face into the flared collar of his shirt. "Oh gods, I may have missed you most of all. Why, I missed all the rest along with you, but you always know how to comfort and strengthen me somehow, dear friend. I was so lonely so much of the time."

The corner of his mouth tugged up even higher than it usually did. He ruffled my hair and went off to return the cutting tools wherever he had found them.

Anti-Elina tapped one finger to her nose as she studied me. "Dress nicely. We leave for the Breath Temple as soon as Anti-Bryndin receives clearance."

"Oh, right. The Breath Temple. For healing. Thank you very much. Erm…" I twisted the cap on my faithful old wand loose, then tightened it again. "High Countess? May I have a moment alone before I have to go, please?" Here I glanced meaningfully at the chamber pot, even though I didn't need to use it. Anti-Elina's eyes softened. She left me alone. The door clicked shut behind her.

I inhaled. My claws flexed. All right, then. I had to act swiftly. I'd never been taken to the Breath Temple for forced regeneration before, and I had no idea what might happen to Liloei if she remained inside my hollow forehead chamber while I was killed at Winni's altar. Whatever happened, it promised to be painful, and I didn't wish to put her through that experience if it could be avoided.

Liloei's final request to me as a lifelong friend had been to seek her out a genie buck with whom she could procreate. Simple enough, wasn't it? Over and done with, pip pip cheerio, hm?

There was only one problem. Liloei couldn't leave the confines of my head unless I released her within a perfectly closed-off chamber to serve as her new lamp. So how was I to locate not only a free, wild genie buck who suited her tastes, but also get myself alone with him?

Wait a moment…

I studied the dull black wand in my hand. How funny. I had to be the only anti-fairy who still used a training wand at this age. Or was it age 75,000 that we were meant to receive our adult ones…? Bah, I couldn't remember. I mean, I'm sure I could have, but my head throbbed with so much heat, it hurt to think. I turned the wand over in my fingers. Alas, the poor trinket. It had been useless in Liloei's lamp, and as I had yet to try it out, I had no clue whether it would even work. I shook it several times, and it sputtered blue sparks. When I checked inside the star cap, there was still a thin amount of rosewater sloshing about inside. That would have to do. I held the battered wand against my forehead and closed my eyes.

"Come on. Come on, Julius. It's one quick  _poof_  to the Eros Nest. You're in, you'll greet the cherubs, you'll visit the genies they keep on display there, perhaps stop by the Anti-Fairy enclosure for old times' sake, and you're out again." Then, because I knew better than to allow the cold star contact with my skin while channelling my magic, I extended my arm.

The wand in my grip began to rattle. Thin smoke leaked out from beneath its cap in a way that didn't feel familiar. I yelped and tried to pat it out, but there was little I could do. My wand lurched forward as though it had been hooked. A burst of bright white magic blinded my good eye. Shocks of lightning zinged up my skin, sweeping me off my feet entirely. My wings leaped of their own volition. I jerked about in the air for a matter of seconds, then fell with a plop on the floor. Face-first. Panting. My wand clattered beside me, still smoking black.

"Bleh! So this is what washroom tile tastes of. Rubbish. Rubbish- that's what this is." I pushed myself up and wiped my mouth, squinting against the glare of the lanterns. Liloei and I hadn't needed anything quite this bright back in our lamp. She'd designed the walls themselves to gently glow, and she could dim them at my request when I wished to recharge my energy.

I shook myself out, then grasped the handle of my wand again. Soot still clung to every tuft of my fur. I forced myself to stand anyway. Either my wand was faulty, or nearly 70,000 years after my disappearance, Anti-Fairies still couldn't  _poof_  past the Barrier into Fairy World. Come to think of it, I believe Anti-Buster had mentioned the Barrier in passing while I was stuffing my face with griffin veal and the camarilla court were discussing the best time to haul me off to the Breath Temple.

I regarded my wand with distaste. Or both. That was a possibility too.

One more try, just to make a fair effort. I waved it through the air, and again shocks of electricity blasted across my skin. My fur rippled in the wake of it. It nearly knocked my fangs from my upper jaw. This time when I face-planted, I landed in something softer than the tile. Oof! I sat up, spitting out clouds and the salty tears welling up in my eyes.

"Oh gods, it's been too long! I'm so out of practice; this is just embarrassing. Ah, where am I?" I squinted into the sky, slowly pulling myself together until I was sitting on my knees. As I'd forgotten to bring a handkerchief along, I rubbed my fist against my nose.

Yellow leaves. White trunks with swirling black markings and thin branches stretching into the sky. My nerves stilled. Ipewood trees. The forest. I was in the Barrenglades. Plane 4. Winkleglint's estate must be nearby. It wasn't precisely the Eros Nest… not at all, in fact. The Eros Nest was situated on Plane 8 of Existence just like the Blue Castle. I'd somehow landed myself halfway there and yet twice as far away.

"Aha… aha…" I pushed dripping snot across my lip, squeezing my eyes shut as my stinging tears rained against my knees. "Lily? Are you all right?"

If she responded, I couldn't hear it. I hunched my shoulders and hissed through my fangs.

"Ow, ooh, ow, ow… Good smoke, I am in a considerable amount of pain right now. My head is filled with fire. I shan't try that again for some time. Gods, this doesn't make any bloody sense at all. How in Tarrow's name did I end up in the  _glade_  half of the Barrenglades? I'm in Fairy World! I can't have crossed the Barrier! Unless…"

My eyes widened. Slowly, they trailed upwards. I brought my hands up to my forehead.

"Oh, no  _way_. Of course! Why, it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? The Barrier is intended to keep Fairies and Anti-Fairies apart, but genies are more powerful than either of our species. So long as I'm acting as her lamp, the Barrier can't block me out! Or at least," I added with a wince, flexing out my wrist, "it can certainly try, but I can manage to fight my way through the pain every now and again, hm? Why, this is a brilliant discovery! Simply remarkable, ahahaha!" I'd have to hold onto this one for later.

Blearily, I looked around the woods, wondering what lived among these trees. There were no birds, no bats, no rabbits. No animals of any kind that I could spot, although a few minutes of exploration turned up tracks that looked as though they may belong to some sort of echidna. The forest was full of colour, certainly, but not of noise. Not of life. Eerie emptiness clung to every tree branch and gave me shivers as I stumbled along on my swollen, blackened, long-frostbitten legs.

I don't know how long I dragged myself along before I recalled that I had wings, and I don't know how long I flew before I reached Winkleglint's estate. Ah, my faithful wand had remembered the way, even though I hadn't intended to land here.

I struggled up the path and fell against the wooden door, slapping it softly with the palm of my hand as I flopped onto my knees. It opened eventually, and enormous Fairy hands pulled me in. I might have heard my name, or I didn't. I lapsed unconscious before I could be sure.

When I woke, I lay on my back. I found myself smothered in thick white blankets with my wings folded uncomfortably beneath me. My feet were elevated on cushions that kept them above my head. After blinking a few times, I realised I was in the guest house where Anti-Buster and I had stayed during my study abroad opportunity in Fairy World. A large hand rested on my stomach. My eyes trailed along the thick arm up to the checkered pink and white shirt, and then the freckled face and silver hair. Orin Winkleglint.

I tried to sit up, squeaking something, but Winkleglint pressed me back to the bed. "Shh," he murmured. He rubbed his hand in circles over my stomach as though I were a little child with an aching tummy. "You'll be home soon."

"Oof," I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "Oh, dear me. I was upright too long again, wasn't I? Curse this blasted heat. It certainly didn't do me any favours."

Winkleglint took a dish from the side table and brought it to my lips. I drank greedily, desperate for even more. "Heh heh," he murmured, stroking my hair back with his hand. It still itched from Caden's cutting it, but I ignored him until the dish was dry.

"I've got to get to the Eros Nest," I panted, still wiping droplets from my mouth. "It's urgent!"

"In good time," Winkleglint soothed, taking back the dish.

Sindri's husband - I recognised him because of his ginger beard and green leprechaun hat - poked his head into the room then. "I've scryed the High Countess. She'll be on her way as soon as she can."

 _"No,"_  I choked out. I grasped Winkleglint's shirt in my hands and twisted, wincing as I felt one of my claws tear a rip in the cloth. "I can't go to the Breath Temple. Don't let her take me!"

Winkleglint felt my forehead, not bothering to detach my claws from his shirt. "You're running a horrendous fever. Your head is absolutely burning up. And your legs are in terrible condition."

"Aye, gangrene," the leprechaun confirmed. "'Tis an awful way to go, but far less damaging to an Anti-Fairy than a Seelie Courter, I should say. At least your kind regenerate."

The sob exploded from my chest. I grabbed the blankets, yanked them over my head as far as they could go, and hunkered beneath in the dark where it was safe. "Don't let them take me to the Breath Temple! I don't want to go! _I don't want to go!"_

I lapsed into sleep again, tossing fitfully for I'm not sure how long. Not long enough, I rather suspect. I awoke to muffled voices outside the door, still tucked in the oversized guest bed. My ears twitched, then flattened. It sounded as though Anti-Elina had arrived, here to take me to the town of Godscress where Winni's Temple lay.

I had to act. I was Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly, descendant of Her Glory Cadmea, the Teumessian Fox herself. The nature spirits blessed her with the ability to evade capture forever, so long as she desired to. I called silently upon that blessing now. My hand shot out from beneath the blankets, grasped the black wand that had been lain on the bedside table, and whipped it through the air. In a screaming flash, I was gone.

I'd aimed again for the Eros Nest. But when I blinked open my eyes ( _eye_ ), I found myself lying cheek-down in a cold cobblestone alley, strewn with litter and dotted with ants. The  _ching! ching!_ s of the casinos and open market games set up for the Alien tourists told me all I need to know. Anti-Fairies were not welcome here, where luck was a commodity difficult to come by. I was in the city of Serentip, the main port between the cloudlands and the foreign skies.

My plans changed the instant I recognised this detail. Obviously, getting myself to the Eros Nest was proving to be a struggle. My reason for visiting that humongous indoor menagerie- zoo- whatever the Fairies called it- was so I could attempt to crawl inside the genie enclosure and loose Liloei from my head, thereby freeing her to mate with any male genie she chose. But what if there was another way?

Magical beings such as Fairies and Anti-Fairies could not free genies from their lamps. Magic simply couldn't affect magical items such as genie lamps. But the Alien races, like all the tourists who just so happened to be wandering the city of Serentip every day, were considered mortal. Yugopotamian, Boudacian, Snobulac- I wasn't sure who or what I would encounter. But one thought beat against the inside of my head, stronger than the beads of sweat pouring from the sealed lip of my forehead dome.

You freed a genie by rubbing her lamp. I needed a non-magical alien to pat me on the head.

I wobbled upright, but squeaked and fell against a rough wooden wall before I could go far. My skull throbbed as though filled with sloshing lava. Every time I blinked, the world grew blurry instead of clear. While I was still in the alley, away from the public eye, I took a moment to empty my stomach into a trash bin. Colourful butterflies wriggled from my throat and flew off in a pastel cyclone. I wiped sticky legs and bits of wings from my lips, then staggered into the street.

But I had a problem. For not only did I wish for a non-magical alien to release Liloei from my head, but she deserved her freedom too. I knew the ways of genies. Once released with an affectionate rub, she was duty-bound to grant three wishes to her rescuer. Assuming that he asked.

My head acted as her lamp now, so when all three had been used up, she would find herself sucked back inside, to await the next head pat I received. Only if given her freedom with a wish would she become, well… free to wander where she wished. And I would miss her terribly when she left. Although right now, I felt that she and I could use a break apart. My head sweltered on.

I stuck to the edges of buildings, sneaking through the shadows wherever I could and trying not to attract unwanted attention. I didn't make it very far before my wobbly legs gave out beneath me. I toppled to the path, dropping my wand.

"No, no," I muttered to myself. This tourist trap of a city was much too much for me. I had to get someplace quiet, someplace cool, and rest a moment. Had to… not be… a conspicuous anti-fairy…

My hand closed around the handle of my wand. But I couldn't turn into a fox. No one had ever given me explicit training, and I'd never seen a real fox in my life. And so… that lonely day in Serentip, I did something that Anti-Luniflys, descendants of Her Glory Cadmea, were not supposed to do.

I turned myself not into a stunning sapphire fox, but into a thin blue rat. I had seen rats.

That was it. That was all I could do. I fled under the nearest shop, squeezed through a crack into the basement, and fell unconscious among the sacks of fish and shells.

In the end, I found the sucker I was searching for inside a small casino. I snuck in underage, as I am wont to do. My rat form helped with that tremendously. One would imagine that shapeshifting wouldn't be permitted on casino premises, but somehow, I made it to the washrooms before I changed back into myself. After that, it was simply a matter of time before a quiet Snobulac male wearing rather unimpressive tourist garb wandered in. By himself.

I discarded my initial plan of searching out a kindly soul who might willingly make the wish to free Liloei from my head. Rather, I leapt at this first young Alien I had managed to trap alone, and seized him by the collar. At my command, the startled reptile obliged my sputtered request and petted my hair. Twin trails of smoke began leaking from my nostrils. They swirled until I coughed and spluttered. My forehead swung open, its hinge squealing like a newborn manticore.

And Liloei materialised before me in a comforting swirl of violet. Oh, Lily, my dear, dear friend…

The confused Snobulac didn't seem to know how to react to this bizarre spectacle, poor chap. Of course he didn't. He was non-magical, after all. Genies may not have been a part of local legend in his world, since Mars and Earth were their most notable stomping grounds. Or maybe they were, and he had ideas to wish up, and I had just taken the worst risk of my entire life.

I sparked with fury and desperation. Not towards him necessarily, but with the universe at large. I did not fear Snobulacs, with their pointed teeth and bulging stomachs. I was an Anti-Fairy, and Anti-Fairies regenerate. I had Liloei to look out for me anyhow. I drove the point of my wand into his forehead, twisting it deeper. How much deeper, I wasn't sure. Tears blurred my vision.

"Wish her free to go! Wish her free to go!"

Baffled, the Snobulac said, "I wish you were free to leave?"

That broke the spell. I felt that power ripple through my blood and bones, just as I assume Liloei felt it within hers. The golden cuffs fell from her wrists and clattered on the tiled floor, and it was over. I pulled back my wand. Liloei turned to me, placing her folded hands against her chest.

"Julius," she whispered. Her eyes shone. She placed her fingers against her lips, and blew me a gentle kiss. "I thank thee immensely."

"Where will you go now?" I whispered, ignoring the uneasy Snobulac beside us.

Liloei smiled in a mischievous way. "I wish to live. There is so much to see." Her tail whisked around, bleeding purple smoke. "I hope to meet a buck. My dream to bear candles of my own draws near. Then, pregnant, I shall retreat somewhere small and silent until my litter are born. We shall see what happens after that. I believe I might explore the universe."

I nodded, unable to speak past the knot in my throat. I desperately hoped she wouldn't turn out to be like so many genie mothers in the stories she'd shared with me, who dumped their candles on unrelated foster parents to raise as soon as they were weaned.

"I'll miss you," I whispered, straining with all I had. I embraced Liloei around the middle, and she wrapped me carefully in her arms.

"As I shalt miss thee."

Then she was gone. I disappeared into the casino basement before the befuddled Snobulac had the chance to turn on me, although I'm quite certain he alerted security to my presence. Returning to my pathetic rat form, I hid among the dirt and cobwebs in a secret hidden place, and there stayed as quiet as I could. Tears dribbled from my eyes the entire time I waited for the Keepers to throw me in the street. It was cold. Dark. Lonely. Sniffling, I curled up on the floor and hid my head beneath my skinny rodent arms.

"I want to go home."

I passed two more years in Serentip, skulking in cellars and gnawing on the scraps I found in garbage bins. The Keepers did track me down eventually. So it was that despite my sputters and pleas, they dragged me to the border between Fairy World and Anti-Fairy World again, and the High Countess was called upon to pick me up. She sighed when she saw my despondent condition, me curled up on a wobbly wooden chair with my hands pinned over my ears. Jorgen von Strangle, much older and far more buff than I remembered, gloated from his place beside the entry gate. He held his massive star staff as though it were a javelin he'd throw at a moment's notice.

Anti-Elina knelt before me, placing her hand against my cheek. I whimpered and hugged myself more tightly. I didn't want her to see me like this. I didn't want anyone to see me like this. I didn't want to see anyone.

"Take them to the Breath Temple," she told my mother, who had arrived alongside her. "You'll need to carry them to the dressing room and help them change. It doesn't look as though they'll be able to walk on those blackened legs anymore. I'll contact Ambrosine Whimsifinado."

I raised my head, reluctant to meet my mum's silent stare, but knowing someday I would have to.

"Julius," she said. Her muscles were just as sleek and shiny as I remembered. More so when her arms were folded, the way they were right now. "What have you done?"

Somehow, I couldn't find it in me to flinch. I let my head drop to my knees again. Mother tweaked the end of my nose.

"You disappear all this time, make your grand return, and whisk yourself away again while my back is turned. And now you can't even be bothered to walk. What have you got to say for yourself? You're just like your goody-goody brother, dragging nasty karma around after you. You get that from your father's side. It's your Anti-Cosma blood that makes you so disagreeable."

"I don't mind not walking," I muttered, pressing my heels against the tops of my thighs. "I'm used to it. I really am. You have no idea."

But to my surprise, Mother's firm blue eyes softened. She rested her hand on my shoulder. "Well, as long as you weren't out there trying to flee your marriage to that Mona girl, then I still love you."

She gave me a handkerchief to wipe my nose. Somehow, I felt much better after that.

"I don't want to go to the Breath Temple," I whispered when she boosted me up in her arms. But I didn't protest any further than that. My legs seared every time they moved. For the last two weeks, I'd been mostly dragging myself through the city streets, and I'd spent months before then limping on my toes. In Liloei's lamp, her magic had kept me healed. Once I left, it hadn't taken long for nearly 70,000 years of infection to set in. I tightened my arms around my mother's neck and squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm frightened of the stories, Mum."

"The acolytes are professionals," was her only reply.

They didn't bother cutting my hair this time. Although they could have, given how long I was left to wait by myself in the Temple's dressing room. Because of course the thing I wanted bloody most in the world was to be left all by myself again. Like the rest of the Temple, everything in the dressing room was either yellow or white. The tiles on the floor weren't large and marble as I had expected, but tiny and lined with thick lines of grout. Since I couldn't hang from the provided roost, I sat on my padded bench, hands on my knees, quietly kicking my feet. They'd gone numb long ago. I couldn't remember when.

I picked at the sleek, tight fabric of my Temple clothing. After considerable searching, the acolytes had actually found something close to my size, small though I was. It was a single piece stretching from my neck to my ankles, and all the way to my wrists, but it wasn't a robe. It conformed to the curves of my body in an unfamiliar way. I wasn't sure what the cloth was made of, only that it certainly wasn't cotton. It stretched when I pulled. I only made that mistake once, because it snapped my skin when I let go. That smarted. I turned my glare on the broken vase of flowers on the floor, filled with bright marigolds and sunny roses. And weepy little chamomile flowers, which I'd stomped beneath my heel a moment ago. I loathed chamomile. Huey used to make me chamomile tea every morning and every afternoon. The fuzzy memory churned my stomach even now.

Finally, my ears snapped to attention when I picked up footsteps just outside the door. I raised my head in time to watch Ambrosine come in. He stayed near the door, rubbing his chin as he sized me up. His eyes glowed more intensely than seemed natural, and I wondered drearily if he was using that field-sight power the Fairies had in place of the Anti-Fairy mind-meld. You know. The thing that let him see the useless colours of magic around me, and not the aspects of personality that an Anti-Fairy could hear. Magic was disabled within the Temple walls, but apparently Fairies can have whatever they want.

"I've been very worried for you," he told me.

"I appreciate it," I sneered in reply.

Ambrosine nodded only once. His eyes trailed to the thin curtains that divided the roosting area where we now were from the bathing pool. Then to the vase of flowers I'd picked up and looked at several moments ago, before I'd thrown it on the ground and watched it shatter. "I'm glad I managed to catch up with you again. It isn't safe to let an Anti-Fairy with  _divus_  displacement disorder wander aimlessly across the worlds without taking his pheromones."

My eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

Ambrosine reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small bottle with a pink label and a flat top. He did not give it to me. "You need to be taking those pheromones, Julius."

"Ambrosine, I'm frankly not sure you understand my situation as well as you pretend to. My mind was entangled with that of a nature spirit when I was born. Painting silly donated pheromones along my face is never going to change that."

"Your behaviours are too chaotic without them." He turned back and held the door open so Caden and my mother could step in. Behind Caden came an acolyte dressed in yellow, black, and white striped and diamond patterns. He carried a long, curved knife sheathed at his hip where his wand should be. The fur lifted all along the back of my neck. Although I should have been quaking at the sight of the blade that would soon be slicing through my skin, I ignored it for now. Something about Ambrosine's presence made me seethe and spit above all else.

"Oh? My behaviours are too chaotic, you say? Because Anti-Fairies are inherently dangerous to everyone around them? We're predisposed to be threatening, and a tiny shift in our moods is all that it takes to push us over the edge? Is that it? Is that all you think we are?"

"Of course not." Ambrosine dropped the container in my mother's hand. "Is Anti-Elina waiting outside?"

Caden nodded. "Aye, she can't enter a Temple that isn't Thurmondo's while she acts as his medium. He wouldn't take it very well."

"Mmhm. Tell her I'd like you to weigh him daily and send for me in a month if he's still underweight. The applica-"

"'They,'" Caden interrupted.

Ambrosine stopped. "What?"

Caden glanced at me in amusement, then at Ambrosine again. "Julius' spirit was tangled with a lightning spirit's when they were born, matey. They are a 'they,' not a 'he.'"

My mother nodded in confirmation, crossing her arms. Her biceps bulged as usual beneath the sleeves of her dress. Silence. I could hear Ambrosine rephrasing himself in his head, plotting out sentences that would allow him to get by without using any pronouns to mention me.

"I don't mind being called a 'he,'" I said softly, pinching my knees together. "No one ever asked me how I feel about it. I sort of prefer 'he.'"

"Fine," Ambrosine said, voice terse. "Now, the application process for these is written on the label. Three times a week. Painting them on the same way you would make preening dominance signals would be the most helpful. Monitor Julius' weight, and keep me updated on the matter."

He wasn't even looking at me anymore. It was like I wasn't there. I was already sobbing before he finished, my hand folded over my mouth. Oh, that hurt. That just  _hurt_  in a way words struggle to explain. Ambrosine turned to me again, his eyebrows peaking above the little half-circle glass lenses on his nose.

"I'm sorry, Julius. I'd like to take some time to talk to you one on one, but your physical health needs to come first. I'll speak with you again after your ceremony."

"'Ceremony,'" I scoffed, and glared at the ground.

Ambrosine departed (after shooting me a final pitying look), and the acolyte who had followed Caden in stepped forward. I thought he was going to drop to a crouch when he spoke to me, but instead, he sat in the wicker chair across from my bench.

"Hello, Julius. My name is Anti-Gil. I'm looking forward to working with you today. You'll float out of here a brand new anti-fairy."

I kept my wet gaze firmly rooted on the floor. "I know what you do."

Anti-Gil paused. "That's some rather nasty black frost Sunnie bit you with. May I take a closer look?"

I shrugged. Anti-Gil reached for my leg, and lifted my foot into his lap. He pressed at my ankle and examined the bottoms of my toes. I only knew this because I watched him. I couldn't feel anything at all.

"I care about your comfort," he said as he worked.

"Sure you do," I muttered. I noticed a twitch in my mother's wings, but she stayed beside Caden with her staff.

Anti-Gil set my foot down again. "Would you like to examine the knife we'll be using today?"

I noticed he said "we'll" instead of "I'll." I took note of the way he sat (very relaxed with his ears pointed towards me), and the calm and gentle way he spoke, and I wondered whether he had a family and a nice dinner waiting for him at home. Perhaps tonight he'd curl up with something entertaining to read, or play a game of Throw with the pups in his bottom creche. He'd go on with his life tonight unaffected by what he did to me today. This was just another job to him. He didn't understand me, or anything I'd been through over the last two years.

Or the last 68,000.

No one did.

"If you like," Anti-Gil said softly, "I can cut off the tip of your thumb so you can get an idea of how regeneration will feel."

"You can  _try_  to."

"It's inrita," he said, examining the hilt in its sheath. "It won't be like being cut with a non-magical blade. Are you sure?"

I stopped answering his annoying questions, and started staring into space instead. I'm sure he told me something important about what was to come, but I tuned out everything except the pauses where I was supposed to say, "Yes, thank you" and "No, sir."

My mother had to carry me out of the dressing room again. A low rumble filled the Temple, growing louder and louder the deeper into the Temple we went. Caden and Anti-Gil followed us down the shining halls until we came across a double-doored chamber at the far end. The sleek clothes I'd dressed in were slightly too big for me, and unfortunately, the magic we could have used to adjust them didn't work inside the Temple walls. I suppose it didn't matter.

When the white doors opened and I saw Winni's fountain blooming to the ceiling in its seven-tiered glory, I nearly lost my nerve. The rumbles turned to roars. I squirmed in Mother's grip, only to feel her arms tighten around my stomach. Caden noticed my struggles and gave my hand a squeeze.

"Don't overthink it, matey." He had to raise his voice over the thunder of the water. "Regeneration begins with the prefix  _re-_. You'll come back just the same as you've always been, minus Sunnie's curse. Aye?"

"I don't want to do this," I whispered as my head began to thump. The fountain was enormous, taking up the entire room like a tree in a corridor. Through some magic I didn't understand, the water that poured over the edges gleamed with gold. Even the fountain's bottom layer was lifted on a platform above our heads. Water gushed down in wide, pounding, foamy chaos, then gurgled into the drains in the slick floor below. Spray splashed our faces even though we stood in the doorway. It was endless. It was chaos.

Squinting, I searched the wall behind the falls until I picked out a massive door carved with Winni's swirling Breath symbol. If I recalled correctly from my architecture studies (and I surely did), that led into the echo chamber, where it was said Winni himself could communicate with mortal ears. When he wanted to. That was the place Anti-Bryndin had turned himself over to the Breath spirit, killing himself with a knife much in the same way Anti-Gil was about to do to me. Only, Anti-Bryndin had been alone, all by himself. That would be difficult, I think.

My ears twitched at the sound of the double doors swinging shut. Mother tried to set me on my diseased feet. Pain shot instantly up my spine. My feet may be numb, but it didn't change the fact that my legs couldn't support my weight. I cried out and fell forward, but no one was quick enough to catch me, and I fell on my hands. They slipped across wet tiles. My entire body shook. I raised my head, blinking at the tumult before me. My ears went flat. I spat out a mouthful of water, and watched it trickle towards the nearest slitted drain. The sleek fabric that ran past my knees blocked out some of the cold, but not the hardness of the floor. My sharp knees dug in deep. Something about the whole situation felt familiar to me, although I couldn't pin my claw on the reason why.

Anti-Gil had picked up a second acolyte along the way to this rear chamber. Together, he and she moved me closer to the falls. My knowledge of the Breath Temple was vague, but I expected them to stop  _before_  we reached the storming water. They did not. I was lowered to my knees, with my head bent forward. The water slapped my back and nearly knocked me down. Water blurred my eyes. Straining my eyes became a struggle. If anyone spoke, I wouldn't be able to hear a thing. I bit my lip, bracing myself for what was yet to come.

Anti-Gil traced his thumb along the blade, very gently. The loving way he gazed at it made me wish I could inflict a bout of bad luck upon him and cut  _his_  hand completely off. Ah, well.

I'd heard that whenever an anti-fairy regenerates, it makes their primary counterpart sneeze. This thought kept playing through my brain in a loop until Anti-Gil sliced the blade through the back of my neck and severed my head.

_Poof!_

All became smoke.

When the twinkling stars in my head died away, I opened my eyes to find myself lying on a long stretch of small, wooden chips and softer shavings. And I do mean I opened my  _eyes,_  plural.

Mostly it was dark around me, but the strange thing was, I myself appeared to be glowing blue. My skin was smooth beneath my rubbing hands, as though I'd shaved all my fur and peeled off all my underlying scaly plates. I touched my body, puzzled by what I found. Or rather, what I didn't find. I felt as though I were but a wax figurine brought to life, intended to be decorative and not anatomically correct. Hm. Was this the place Anti-Fairies went to regenerate? Either it was taboo to discuss such matters, or in the rush to cart me off to the Breath Temple before I could run wild again, everyone had forgotten I hadn't grown up learning such things with the rest of my litter. I'd expected to feel sluggish and hazy in this world of the undead, as though stumbling through a dream. Only, I wasn't woozy at all. My mind felt clear… clearer, perhaps, then it had for a long time.

With that thought, I looked around for Clarice. If I was ever going to meet her, it seemed I would meet her here. I mean, that was logical, wasn't it? If our minds were intertwined? Was subspace but a thing of fantasy?

No Clarice. I was all alone. It was just me. Only me.

Around me were the thin, white bars of a cage. They stretched into the sky, until they reached some sort of lid. I could hear voices in the distance, but I couldn't make out any of the words. When I made the attempt to stand, my sickly legs crumpled beneath me. I turned around to try again, and found myself staring through the cage bars and into the depths of a single, enormous, dark brown eyeball. Great white claws like those of a snapping crab reached out to kill me where I sat. I tried to scream, but I didn't have a mouth. I tried to run, but my poor legs couldn't manage even that. I tried to fly away, but my wings were broken or weren't even there at all.

Then I woke up, gasping, where I'd fallen on my side in the Breath Temple. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing for my mother. For Caden. For someone. Even Ambrosine, if he'd been around. My mother was the first to my side. Regardless of my sopping hair or the trails of smoke still writhing around me, she hugged me with fierce affection. She pressed my nose to her bosom, wrapping her arms behind my head.

"M-Mum?" I whimpered into her dress.

"Shh, shh," she murmured, stroking my hair with her palm. "All is right now. Sunnie's curse has fled, and with it, your misfortune is removed."

 _Misfortune_. How I'd missed hearing anti-fairy words spoken from anti-fairy tongues. I turned my head to the side, leaning my ear against my mother's chest. My mood sank even lower. My secret hope had been that regeneration would cure the blindness in my eye. It hadn't. There were rules about regeneration, although I knew them only vaguely. Something about external injuries and something about deep afflictions. Something about blood, something about bone. I'm sure a Breath year could tell it better. I'm just a bloody Water who doesn't know anything about my own zodiac at all.

Mother took my shoulders and turned me back around. Anti-Gil looked about expectantly. "And whose wrist am I tethering them to before they leave here today?"

"Mine," Caden said firmly.

 _What?_  I whirled on my mother again, trying and failing to yank away from her crushing grip. "You're- you're tethering me? You never said that!"

She gazed down at me, unflinching. "The High Countess decided to supervise you until we're certain you're ready to be on your own again."

"Mother!" The tears were exploding down my face like a volcanic eruption underwater. It wasn't that I didn't like Caden -  _of course_  I liked Caden - but I didn't understand why I couldn't be tethered to Ashley. Or better yet, trusted to take care of myself. Was it his physical strength? Caden had always been strong and muscular, and in truth he would be more difficult to writhe away from than my cousin, even if Ashley was also broad-shouldered and taller than I was.  _"Please!_ Did Ambrosine put you up to this? Please, don't!"

Mother made a signal to Anti-Gil and the other acolyte. Then she gripped my shoulders despite my wriggling. I was shaking even worse now than I had when I first entered the fountain room. Caden stepped close to me, and I stared up into his gentle face with multiple kinds of wetness dripping from my cheeks. He took my right hand in his left and interlaced our fingers.

"'Tis for your own good, mate. And it's just until you readjust to colony life."

"I don't want to kiff-tie!" I shouted above the crashing water. "I don't need a tether! I'm  _fine!"_

It was no use. Anti-Gil brought his knife to mine and Caden's forearms and made a sharp, painful slice. Everything below the cut turned to smoke. The tendrils twirled and mingled around one another like serpents in a dance. I watched in disgusted fascination as our two hands gradually regenerated into blue flesh. Only, now they were connected together at the wrist, melted into a single limb. It was Caden's thick, light-furred arm I saw, rather than my thin, dark one. My own arm, quite simply, had been fused completely inside of his. I could wriggle my fingers and touch his bones. When I tightened them into a fist, his skin bulged slightly in a disturbing way. He and I were bonded now, sharing blood and sharing pain.

Ha! Kiff-tying! The way the nature spirits hold hands, blending bodies into one. Only, they can release themselves from such bonds as they choose. I laughed a bitter, choking laugh and shook my head. At least I'd always preferred to use my left hand anyway. Though this would certainly make relieving myself in the chamber pot a rather awkward experience.

I turned to my mother, tugging Caden a single step after me. "How could you?" I whined.

She was not repentant. After thanking Anti-Gil and the other acolyte, we left the Temple. Distractedly, I wondered why we weren't stopping by the dressing room, until I realised that Caden and I would have to be  _poof_ ed into our regular clothing with magic because of our linked limb, and that required us to move outside.

We were hardly down the front steps when we met up with Anti-Elina again, who greeted me and then nodded to my mum. "Keep their arms still, Anti-Florensa."

"What?" I started to twist, and as I did, Mother's hands clamped around my wrists. Well, mine and Caden's. She crossed them in an X behind my back. I struggled against her- not too hard, because I didn't want to hurt her (though I seriously doubted that I could). Caden caught my chin and held my face steady. "What are you doing?" I spluttered as Anti-Elina drifted close. She unscrewed the lid of the pheromone bottle Ambrosine had given her and poured a bit of sickly-scented, sticky-looking clear liquid into her cupped palm.

"It's time for you to take your pheromones."

"What? Here and now? Did Ambrosine put you up to this too?" I struggled a little harder, but Mother squeezed my arms until her claws sunk through my fur and between the cracks in my scales. I gasped, "All right, I'll take them! Let me go! I can do it myself!"

Anti-Elina dabbed two fingers in the puddle of liquid in her hand. As Caden kept my head in place, she began painting out loops and swirls on certain sensitive parts of my face, such as along my cheeks and across my nose.

"You don't need to hold me," I protested. I even relaxed my struggles to prove it. Though every instinct in my body screamed at me to tear myself away from the underlying reek of boiling bananas, I held still as she went along with her work.

"We're trying to help you."

"You're not helping me! You're making me feel like I'm more of an animal than a p-person. High Countess, I'll take my pheromones. Please, just let me do it myself!"

I couldn't stop crying until we returned to the Castle again. Caden took a seat in the library, and I curled in his lap and wept, staring and staring at the place where my wrist disappeared into his hand.

"I want to talk to Liloei," I sobbed into the wrinkles of his shirt. He wore a buttoned shirt now. Most drakes in the Castle did, as tunics were now a thing of the past.

"Liloei?" Caden asked, holding another white chocolate truffle to my mouth. I hated the way I loved those things, and I knew Ambrosine (via Anti-Elina) had put him up to it so the truffles would give me a better attitude about the pheromones, but I couldn't stop myself from eating them. Especially with only one hand, which made me cry a little harder. I shook my head, refusing to answer Caden's question.

"Mona. I want to talk to Mona. Where is she? Still with her mums in the Anti-Bentleaf colony? I want to see her again."

"Well…" Caden's expression became thoughtful. The energy field twinkled with the sound of rustling leaves in a spring wind. "Today is Monday. She's arriving on Friday for Esteemed Anti-Ember's funeral. Can ye wait until then?"

I almost spat out the truffle in my mouth. If it hadn't been delicious white chocolate, I would have. "Nana Anti-Ember went to smoke?"

Caden nodded. "Unexpectedly."

"Oh. Oh." I swallowed then and wiped my eyes. I could still recall her sizing my creche up our first participatory Friday the 13th, leaning on her staff and teasing her son about the pudge of his stomach. Well, that explained why Anti- _Elina_  had been the one to escort me to the Breath Temple, even though she was Thurmondo's medium. "H-how is Anti-Bryndin holding up? After all, Anti-Ember was his mum."

"He's resilient," was Caden's careful reply. "He's been in mourning as of late, tucked away inside his office. Gent's spent a good deal of time lately in the company of his friend Shamaiin, from Fairy World. You're bound to meet him soon. Interesting fellow. Plans to run for the Purple Robe position on the Fairy Council next time elections roll around. A gyne, though he's a pinch short of a full set of freckles, if you spot what I'm picking at here."

I lifted my eyes. "I see. And… How is Anti-Buster?" Even though it was supposed to be a secret, I still remembered that day at Winkleglint's estate when our First General had confessed to me that Anti-Ember was his mum too. Caden was the nephew of the damsel who had birthed Anti-Buster's twin daughters, and he probably knew his uncle's connection to the Anti-Coppertalon family as well as I did.

Caden paused. "Anti-Buster is… grieving for Anti-Ember in his own way."

That was an interesting way to say  _relieved_ , I thought.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday passed with agonising slowness. When Friday dawned, I begged Anti-Elina to release my bond with Caden:

"Please, so I can reunite with Mona properly. After all, she  _is_  my betrothed."

With reluctance she relented, untying the thick, loose loops in our karmic weaves and assuring me that come Saturday, Caden and I would have to tether our hands again. I didn't care. For the moment, I was free. Free!  _Free!_

I sprinted about the Castle, laughing like I'd gone mad. Of course I could fly, but gods, it felt absolutely incredible to  _run._ I hadn't done that for what felt like years, and maybe was. So while Caden, Ashley, Electro, and all the others were setting up chairs in the courtyard where the funeral would be held, I was streaking through the woods with the tails of my white tuxedo flapping behind me.

Then, and only then, did I feel like I had come home.

It was incredible. A dark cloud had lifted from my shoulders for the first time since I left Liloei's lamp and spent those two feverish, frostbitten years in Serentip. I didn't cry myself to sleep on Caden's shoulder, or lie lethargically across his lap while he tried to entertain me with library books. I was free from Liloei's lamp, free from the Castle, free from Caden's tethering kiff-tie. I longed for it to last forever. True, I suppose I had felt better before… but I had also felt so much worse.

I don't know what changed for me. I really have no idea what it was. But Dayfry must have been smiling on me dearly, because on the morning of Anti-Ember's funeral, while her smoke and magic were cycling in the energy field who knew where and her spirit rested on Plane 23 with the spirits themselves, I felt fearlessly fantastic.

I was sitting on the grand staircase with my legs dangling through the bars, kicking my feet as I chewed contentedly on the banister, when a damsel in a beautiful sleeveless, white dress covered in ruffles and bows stepped across the threshold. She wasn't wearing her anti-qalupalik amauti. Not today. It lay draped across her arm, furry and brown. I'd heard her arrive before I saw her, actually. She hummed a new tune I didn't recognise, but she was humming all the same, just as she always, always did. Just as I remembered. Her black hair, so often frizzy, had been mostly tamed and combed into short puffs around her shoulders. Ashley gestured upstairs, and she looked up and smiled at me.

No one had to tell me her name.

"Oh, Mona…"

I ran down to greet her, flinging myself straight into her arms. I laughed until I cried, and she laughed too. She was so much taller than I was - almost a whole head - but in that moment, I didn't care.

"You're not speaking alliteratively," I observed, walking out to the courtyard with my arm in hers (I walked- I had working legs). I chose a seat beside Caden, closer to the rear of the arrangement than the front. He gave my knee a pat in greeting as I sat down, and I smiled tightly back at him. Then my full attention returned to Mona, whose feet were crossed neatly at the ankles in the proper damseline fashion.

"I struggled through speech therapy." Mona shrugged as though in apology. "It's irrationally, irritatingly difficult, and I'll never be completely cured, but people say it's simpler to understand me now."

"I never had trouble understanding you."

That made her smile. "Well. You didn't have a choice besides practicing patience with me. We were serious soulmates."

Anti-Buster, who had been pacing behind us, paused to tap me on the shoulder. When I looked up, he placed a finger to his lips. Ah. The funeral was beginning. He looked hard at me, then at Mona. We nodded, and he returned to pacing.

I held Mona's hand in my lap and caressed her palm. By Rhoswen's journal, it felt incredible to  _use_  my  _own arm_  again. Anti-Elina was the first speaker at the funeral, and she always spoke with great waves of her hands. Once, when her voice became particularly loud, I whispered to Mona, "Were people impatient with you?"

She bent her head against my ear. "It wasn't easy every day, but I managed to make it through."

"Caden told me you've been living in the Anti-Bentleaf colony. With your mums."

"And I've anxiously attended to adoring animals."

"Have you now? Fascinating! Tell me that story."

Anti-Buster's claw tapped on my shoulder again. When I glanced around, I noticed several irritated ears pointed in our direction. Mona and I fell quiet for a time, listening to Anti-Elina speak with passion about her dear mother-in-law. Anti-Ember's staff, with its lantern dangling from the top, lay across the table behind her. When Anti-Buster moved to the front of the courtyard to sit beside his half-brother Anti-Bryndin, Mona and I made our move. She snatched up her amauti. The pair of us snuck to the back row of chairs, then bolted into the Castle. We ran all the way through the halls until we burst out into the rear gardens. We only stopped at Sunnie's turquoise footbridge, and paused to giggle and smooth the wrinkles in our funeral attire.

"We just need a few moments to ourselves," I insisted, clawing my hair. Goodness, it  _did_  need another trim, didn't it? "Why, we've been apart for nearly 70,000 years. We  _deserve_  a private reunion where we don't have to feel rushed by the masses. Well? Come now, darling, don't be shy. What's new with you?"

Instantly, I cringed. Sure. What's new with you in the nearly 70,000 years we've been apart? Anything at all? I may as well stab myself in the throat with a jolly spear, because my conversational skills will never be getting any more refined than this.

Mona practically glimmered as she adjusted her skirts. She pulled her amauti on over her dress, and that was the Mona I remembered, soft and fuzzy. "Well. At long last, I learned the legacy of my last life. That's extremely exciting, isn't it?"

I lifted my eyebrows. "Did you really? So you know who your current soul is a reincarnation of? How remarkable."

"Mmhm. My great-great-great grandmother, Anti-Jesse Anti-Greenshire."

The family name caught me off guard. It took a moment before I recalled that Mona was adopted, and the Greenshire name came from her biological father's side. "Anti-Jesse the poet? The one who wrote about Her Glory Cadmea leading the hunted animals across the stars, with Her Glory Laelaps in hot pursuit? The piece etched in gold leaf above the camarilla's roosting room?"

She nodded, a grin breaking out across her face. "Indeed, exactly! I was in the library, reading her works. And then I remembered  _writing_  her works. And… it all started coming back to me then, in bits and pieces. I've always been able to recite her things by memory, but I never understood why. I thought maybe my mums made the most of many nights reading them to me. But they said they hadn't. It's interesting. When you know who you're a reincarnation of… You just know. You know?"

Briefly, I wondered if it bothered her to realise that none of her descendants had a chance at ever hosting Anti-Dixie's reborn soul, seeing as Anti-Penny was her biological parent. Did Anti-Dixie even have any offspring of her own, or was Mona her only tie to motherhood? The thought clenched me with an odd sort of terror, not for her so much as myself. Not only would I never know the joy of raising my own pups if I couldn't find a way around the ban on common fairy and anti-fairy children, but I would never have the opportunity to reincarnate into one of my descendants either! I'd more likely be sent to take an animal form in my next life, and from then on only incarnate as the descendants of that simple creature. Such a cruel fate! Why, who gave Fairies the right to steal my entire family line's future from us that way?

"I'm so happy for you," I said, squeezing both her hands in mine. "Are you planning to write many poems again during this latest visit to the cloudlands?"

Mona shook her head. She drifted towards the edge of the bridge, leaning her folded arms against the railing. "I always admired animals in my last life, writing relentlessly. In this life, I want to attend to animals instead."

I took up a place beside her. "Of course. There's certainly no shame in dabbling in as many experiences as you can. That's why the nature spirits allow us to return here so often, after all." I pressed my lips together. "I do wish I could figure out whether or not I'm a reincarnation in this lifetime."

"You surely shall someday. It takes time to."

I snorted before I could stop myself. Pulling away from the railing, I wandered down the footbridge until I reached the pond's edge. There, I shed my shoe. Mud squelched between my toes. I bent down to roll my pant legs to my knees. "I'm sure I had a long line of ancestors awaiting my birth. Son of a concubine and a goody-goody servant. They all must have been tripping over their feet to sink their claws into my newborn smoke."

"Don't say that," Mona told me softly. She followed me into the pond, trying to keep her dress above the dark water. I'd waded forward, searching for glowing toads or salamanders in the dark. "Life is sweet."

"I suppose," I said, looking up. I stood and flicked water from my hands. Mona brought her face quite close to mine then, so our noses bumped.

"I'm so super satisfied to have you back."

The nervous laugh spurted out of me despite my attempts to contain it. Mona pulled away, blinking at the resulting spittle. "I'm so glad to be home," I said. I brought my thumb to her cheek and wiped the flecks of spit away. "Sorry. I panicked."

"I'm fine."

I softened my noises. She shifted her pale, ghostly wings. We shared a long look, tried to glance away, then both found ourselves drawn to one another's eyes again. Mona just looked so pretty standing there, I found I couldn't contain my most primal urges any longer. So I kissed her.

On the lips.

And she kissed me  _back_.

We pulled apart, giggling at our wild scandal. Good smoke, what a jolly exciting sport this courtship game was. The possibility of being caught in our daring act thrilled my spine. Kissing wasn't against the rules, though from the way my blood pumped through my veins, one might imagine it was.

Shyly, I tucked my hair behind my ear and averted my gaze. I knew I was being forward, for Mona and I had hardly exchanged pecks on the cheeks by this point in our lives. Yet her allure enchanted me, and I kissed her again- this time on the nose. I practically had to stretch onto the tips of my toes to do it, but with my hands clasped behind my back, up to my knees in pond water, I daresay I embodied the picturesque dream of a gentlemanly sweetheart. Mona hummed, playfully turning her head away.

"M-Mona," I stammered out then, folding back my ears. Suddenly I found myself terribly hot under the collar, flushed with what I suppose was desire; nonetheless, I took her elbows gently in my hands and pressed on. "Have you ever kissed anyone before?"

She smiled. "Not in this lifetime. I waited for my soulmate to come home. Why should I want anyone else?"

"Oh." By this point my face was blushing purple. I touched my cheek with my hand. This conversation had certainly turned terribly steamy quite fast. No wonder we pups were so often sent outside the room when flirting began; words as passionate as these weren't for childish ears. "Th-that's really very charming, and I'm quite flattered to hear it. You kiss very well, I should say."

"I missed you."

"I  _really_  missed you."

"You look quite cute wearing white. And it's incredibly interesting to enjoy your wings untied. I never really had the chance before."

"Good smoke!" Unable to control the blood flowing to my cheeks, I bent over, covering my face with both hands this time. It was ludicrous; I simply couldn't stop grinning like an utter buffoon. Water slurped about my legs. "Oh! You really think I'm cute?"

Mona giggled. "Very cute."

"Stop it. You're making me freeze down."

"Well, you are."

"I'm embarrassed," I laughed. I crouched down and dipped my hands in the pond.

"What are you doing?"

"Cooling off," I said, splashing my face. "Although I suppose it would be more effective for me to warm myself up, hm? I just- I'm just so…  _Mona!_ " I lunged for her to steal another hug. She stepped back, almost tripping on a stone. "Ohh, it's so grand to be free at last!"

She kissed my face, and I squirmed against her, vaguely aware of my tail fighting to set itself free from my trousers and wave through the air. I was just so excited! I felt as though I could burst! Craning my head, I kissed Mona's mouth again, and again. My hands slid up her back to her shoulders and down her arms to her elbows. Bracing myself against her helped me keep my balance a great deal, and it just felt more romantic somehow.

Dear smoke. Me, a romantic! Could you believe I'd actually managed to find a partner who adored me so dearly? I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't lived through the moment. And to think Mona had waited for me all these tens of thousands of years! This  _must_  be true love.

Mona placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned me back against the railing of Sunnie's footbridge. "What are you doing?" I mumbled. I found that my mouth and hands knew the roles to play, even if my eyes and ears could hardly believe what they were sensing. I dropped my hands to her waist, slipping them beneath the open halves of her amauti until they pressed against her hips. That felt right. Mona hugged my back, her arms wrapped beneath my wings. The fluff of her coat's collar filled my nose and rubbed my neck. With a final lash, my tail did free itself and beat back and forth.

In that way, we kissed. Quite a lot, I must admit. Maybe five whole minutes, ahaha! Well, I never did insist I was a pure and proper child. Her kisses touched my lips like rain. Not that I'd ever actually seen rain in my real life, but I imagined what it must feel like. I wondered spontaneously then about my soul and the Zodii belief of reincarnation, and if in one of my past lives, I'd ever kissed a pretty damsel in the rain. Or maybe a cute drake. Surely I must have kissed someone before, somewhere in another point of history.

Mona claimed to be the reincarnated spirit of one of her ancestors. Had Anti-Jesse ever known one of mine? And had our souls ever kissed each other this way before? I'd heard it said that Tarrow betrothed young pups together because he knew our past lives even when we forgot them upon rebirth. It's why we called each other soulmates, after all. Finding each other and falling in love all over again for all eternity was our fate. It was decided.

That evening in the pond, I'd swear my first kissing session was a spiritual experience. I felt absolutely in tune with the water beneath me and the sky above, the soil on the bank and the leaves in the trees, the fire of the stars and our entangled breath, and the outpouring of sincere love all around us. I felt in tune with Clarice and with Fairy-Cosmo too. It was incredible, like nothing I'd ever experienced before. I found that I rather enjoyed kissing. It just felt so  _right_.

I knew then what the rain tasted like against my skin. It brushed against me just like Mona's caresses on my face, of course. Smooching her among the reeds and rushes, I couldn't help but fantasise. Well? Would we still be doing this 100,000 years from now? 200,000? What would our pups look like? I could envision it now: Me kneeling at the bank of the pond, holding up a tiny daughter splashing about, while Mona hunted for glowing royal toads with our son.

Oh gods. Pups. Pups! We'd be of legal age soon enough, young and excited. Then at long last, I could finally put some of my reproductive theories to the test. I nearly groaned aloud at the thought. Of course I'd glanced at my research here and there during my time in Liloei's lamp, although I hadn't actively worked on it without access to the books I needed. But I'd never forgotten my desire. The possibility of uncovering a loophole in the fairy baby mandate didn't seem quite so far away anymore.

I leaned my head away from Mona at last, dropping back to my heels. My toes squelched in the mud. We stared each other in the mischievous eyes and giggled like budding maniacs. Then Mona's ears flicked up. "Cripes. Can you catch the cacophony?"

I swivelled my own ears around. I could hear the bubble of the stream trickling around my ankles, and the shift of pebbles, and the croak of toads. No music. I looked at Mona. She looked back at me with her teeth set. "Smoof," I whispered. "Weren't we supposed to be at a funeral?"

"Shoot. Let's streak, sugar."

"Stole the words right out of my mouth. Speaking of which-"

"Julius," she protested with a laugh, pushing me off. She brought both hands behind her head and lifted her frizzy hair over her collar. Then she let it fall. She waded over to the bank. "Hurry. Gotta go."

"Yes, yes. But let's do this again sometime, wot?" I took her hand. Clasping tight to each other, we ran through the gardens for the castle, cackling the whole way.

Unfortunately, our escape did not go unnoticed. Anti-Buster stood directly in the centre of the path, surrounded by high hedges. I tried to pull Mona to the right at the same time she tried to pull me to the left. Our linked hands smacked into Anti-Buster's stomach. He stepped backwards.

"And where have you two been for the past half an hour?"

I tugged at my lapel while Mona adjusted her soaked skirts. The damp white fabric clung to her legs in a way that was almost transparent.

Anti-Buster drew his wand and  _foop_ ed us both into new, dry clothes. Then he moved off the path and gestured with his hand towards the Castle. "Dinner is just beginning. I will grant you both a pass this time because I know you're quite excited to be reunited after nearly 70,000 years of separation. However, in the future, do take care not to get distracted when there are ceremonies underway."

"Yes, Anti-Buster," I whispered. The two of us took off. We found the Castle's rear entrance propped open by an enormous split geode nearly as tall as I was. As soon as we were inside, Mona and I looked at each other and collapsed into snickers. I leaned forward, bracing my palms on my knees, while she covered her mouth with both hands.

"Oh gods, did you see his face? I couldn't tell whether he wanted to pat us each on the back or smack us in the buns!"

"Next time," she gasped between her tears, "we should stay so much sneakier."

I grinned. "Oh? Next time, you say?"

"I think I do say. That is, if I wasn't too improper for a gentledrake like yourself."

"Not at all." I cupped her chin in my hand. "And to prove it, do allow me to make the first move again."

"Oh!"

Her lips were soft and tender, not rough and chapped at all. Although I didn't know very much about kisses, I found that if I focused on Mona's bottom lip and pretended I was sipping soup or ice cream from a spoon, I did a very good job. At least, her constant humming picked up and she kissed me fervently in return. Soon enough she had backed me into an alcove below a sizzling blue torch, bending just a bit over me so I could stretch up and wrap my arms around her neck and kiss her like a swishing fire-

"Ahem."

We both looked up to find Anti-Buster standing over us. He pointed down the corridor. Eep! This time, I grabbed Mona's wrist. We hurried off to dinner hand in hand, just the way we were always meant to be.


	16. Ripples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached our first crossover point between Frayed Knots and my H.P. backstory 'fic, Origin of the Pixies. This chapter parallels the Origin of the Pixies chapter "Grand Father." Again, Knots is its own story and you don't need to read Origin in order to understand it, but if you like the context and bonus scenes, it is there. All crossovers between the two 'fics will be noted like this at either the beginning or end of the parallel chapter.
> 
> Be forewarned: There's a lot of zodiac culture in this chapter. This is still an FOP fanfic, I swear. Julius is just… going through a rebellious phase. But Anti-Wanda returns in full glory next time. Be excited! And H.P. and Sanderson show up after that. Be excited again! And soon, Juandissimo! The fun never ends!

  _In which many years pass, Julius is visited by an old friend, and he travels to the Water Temple in the Fairy World capital of Faeheim_

* * *

I spent the next three years, on and off, with my hand tethered to Caden's arm before Anti-Elina finally conceded that my recklessness had faded, and I had become a very calm drake. She still made me wear pheromones on my cheeks every other day and would check me closely to ensure I did, but I didn't mind that so much. For I was free now, and shortly before my hand and Caden's were released, Mona returned to the Blue Castle colony to stay.

Anti-Penny came with her, and she resumed her task of teaching me architecture, along with everything else I would need to be a demon-taming acolyte someday. But six thousand years in, I finally refused to go on. After all my years trapped inside Liloei's lamp, I couldn't imagine a future trapped inside the Water Temple, allowed out only to flaunt my clothing and ceremonial jewellery for parades and entertainment (i.e. being allowed out only to grant the wishes of people I didn't particularly care about). It simply didn't become me.

"I want to go to the Fairy Academy someday," I insisted, sitting on my study scrolls instead of reading them. I really should have been looking at Anti-Penny when I spoke, and I sort of was, in spurts… I was using a piece of charcoal to sketch her likeness on a scrap of parchment in my lap. Not my best decision, frankly, since the britches I wore were white cloth and stained terribly.

"To study architecture,  _mon ami_?" Anti-Penny asked pleadingly, her gentle Chif accent sharpening at the end.

"Actually, to study art history." I rotated my parchment and smudged in a patch of shadow along her neck. "When I was a pup, you taught me history endlessly. That was all facts and figures, wars and context, you know what I mean? I wish to take what you taught me, and add art into the equation."

"And I can teach you such things myself."

I shook my head. "I never wanted to be an acolyte. I adore research, and I adore art, but I never desired to spend my childhood researching art as intensely as this. I want to admire the beauty of it, not the facts and figures."

 _"Mon beau-fils,_  this is the fate Tarrow chose for you."

At that, I wrinkled my nose. "Well, if that's the case, then why did he lead me away from the Castle and your education for near 70,000 years, hm? Answer me that."

Mona, my mother, and even Anti-Elina herself joined in the discussion, each trying in their own way to encourage me to follow the path of an acolyte. But I could not be swayed.

"I know what I want out of life. I've had thousands of years to think about it. I want to draw."

Anti-Penny sighed. "Ah, but if you choose to be an acolyte, you can paint the most gorgeous murals on Temple walls, and craft the most lifelike statues which may stand in colony gardens someday."

"I don't want to paint old stories. I want to draw the regular world. And I don't want to perform elaborate Zodii ceremonies- I simply want to  _draw_ how they look. I wish to capture Anti-Fairy culture in art, and then I want my art to hang in wealthy Fairy homes so they never forget who we are beneath their hurtful stereotypes."

"Julius, you're being difficult," my mother snapped.

"I'm just trying to follow the path that feels like it's my fate. Since returning to the Castle, I've had 6,000 more years of architectural studies, and I'm  _bored."_

Anti-Elina adjusted the eyeglasses she had finally replaced her dangling coloured stone-lenses with. "Bored, you say?"

"Yes." I looked up. "I'm bored. And that's a reasonable state for me, isn't it? Let's not forget, High Countess, that I've legally been considered a child genius ever since I was eight years old. I never have enough to capture my imagination and utilise my talents. Or at least not around here. I. Am. Bored."

"Well, it won't be easy to get you into a Fairy school, especially at this age. There's a great deal of work you'll be expected to do."

"Then I'll do all of it. I want to go." I turned to Mona, who sat quietly on the edge of the table. "What do you think?"

She considered my words. Then she told me something I knew I would never forget: "I would rather marry a happy artist than an ornery acolyte."

She really is the perfect one for me, isn't she?

Anti-Elina wasn't happy, but she respected my decision anyhow. I think Anti-Bryndin coaxed her into it. I wasn't actually informed that I'd been enrolled anywhere, until a sudden visitor showed up on the Castle doorstep. Mona came to get me from my study, flushed from her rapid fly. She grabbed my hand and pulled me along the corridor so fast, I had to keep my fingers pressed to the bridge of my glasses just to keep them on my nose. Pfft.  _Glasses._  The Fairies had invented them, and it showed in the way they were totally impractical for Anti-Fairy ears. They were dreadfully silly, as there were two lenses and I only had the one working eye anyway, and I hated how they were always slipping down my face. Nevertheless, Anti-Elina had gifted them to me, and the curve of the glass improved my vision just as she had promised, so I wore them anyway.

"W-what's going on?" I stuttered out before we reached the grand staircase to the lower floor. When I glanced down, I saw a stranger hovering in the open front door, and my eyes widened. By all accounts, he appeared to be a common anti-fairy, like me. He didn't look older than I was by more than a few decades, which caught my attention at once. I'd always felt as though there weren't many common anti-fairies around these days, what with the baby mandate and all. His arms were stuffed with strips of bark and parchment. He wore a black suit, with a little golden badge on the left side of his chest. An all-purpose, no-eyebrows-raised border-crossing badge, if I wasn't mistaken.

"Stopped to see you specifically," Mona explained, squeezing my wrist. "Speeding on to school shortly."

"You don't say?"

The drake had a relaxed air about him, so I did not rush to greet him. Ashley, Caden, Teresa, Harriet, and Day were all floating about in the corridor, so hopefully they had welcomed him properly. I drifted down slowly, tugging at the hem of my sleeveless black shirt and wishing I'd been informed of his coming so I could have changed into something more presentable before now. Really, it would have taken only a twitch of my wand had I only known. I felt underdressed.

Nonetheless, the drake did not study me with anything that felt like judgement. The cool expression never left his face. His hair was shiny black, intertwined with swirling stripes of silver and smoky blue. He kept most of it tied behind his ears. Even so, long trails of it had come loose during his fly over, and now fluttered about his cheeks.

"Are you Julius Anti-Lunifly?" he asked, shifting the parchments he carried.

"I am. Autumn of the Black Lake." I paused a beat, trying desperately to remember his name. I didn't recall ever being introduced to him before. Mona had said he was from school, but beyond that, I knew nothing about him. "And you are?"

"Noon Anti-Sundive, although I'm coming on 150,000 fast. You'll know me as Anti-Lance after that."

The name cracked with a certain sort of power, and I nodded. "I say, that  _is_  a fine name. I'll be sure to remember that. This is my betrothed, Mona Anti-Feldspar," I said, glancing over my shoulder at her (She waved, struggling to cover a giggle in her hand).

Noon dipped his head politely, folding back his ears. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mona. May silver blessings fall upon you. I hope you come by to visit your betrothed and I once or twice. I was never betrothed myself, and from the sound of it, he's a very fortunate drake. What's your zodiac?"

"Soil," she choked out, her voice muffled by her fingers. I heard the other damsels snickering behind her. Caden coughed into his fist much too loudly. I resisted the urge to put my arm in front of Mona and nudge her into the background. Instead, I smiled, lips tight.

"And what's yours, my good man?"

"Sky." So saying, Noon glanced above him to check the glow of the stars. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer. I'm only passing through, but I heard you'll be in my dorm at Frederick Shinesworth, and I wanted to introduce myself early. If I may ask, what are you planning to study?"

Dorm? Frederick Shinesworth? As in, the Fairy World school just inside the border? What, did he mean  _me?_  I pricked up. "Art, actually. Drawing and painting, to be precise." I paused for just a wingbeat, then added, "I was in training to be an architect once, but frankly, it's portraits and landscapes that capture my imagination."

"They're a they," Mona blurted, still covering her mouth. "Not a he. So super sorry. For the future, friend."

"Mona," I hissed, my ears going flat. Clarice was my secret to divulge when I felt the time was right. Really, I wouldn't have minded at all if Noon referred to me as a him. Even I thought of myself as a him. She glanced at me, and burst into giggles all over again. Restraining my sigh, I turned to my future roommate once more.

"And you? W-what do you plan to study in the future?"

Noon's narrow eyes narrowed a bit further in thought. "Oh, the general aspects of combat magic, with an emphasis in charms and potioncraft."

"Potioncraft, you say? Ooh, now that  _does_  sound fascinating. You know, I mixed a few potions myself back when I was younger, but I'm afraid I chose not to pursue it long. However, I'd certainly been interested in hearing your insights. You'll have to share all the details with me once I've settled in your dorm."

"I'll hold you to it." Noon held his parchments with one hand, but extended the other palm up to me. He smiled. I daresay I rather liked him- his amber eyes were friendly despite the half-lidded way he insisted on gazing about. When I placed my hands in his, he turned them over so mine rested on the bottom. He said, "And I look forward to rooming with you, Julius."

Yes, and I looked forward to graduating the Academy before he did, if it was at all possible. A thrill tingled down my spine at the thought of a challenge. Of all the Anti-Fairies I could have ended up sharing a dorm with, it would seem the one I'd landed was not only intelligent, but also incredibly polite. And a common anti-fairy like myself on top of it! Oh ho, smashing! I imagined he would make an excellent study partner. I'd love to race him to the end of our studies, then; smoke, it had been so long since my brain had faced a proper workout. This would be fun indeed.

"Silver blessings to you all," Noon called as he departed, and I returned the sentiment. Once he'd flown far enough off, I shut the door.

"Well! So it turns out I'm off to Frederick Shinesworth Lower School someday soon, then! What do you say to that, Mona?" She was no longer by my side. I looked about. "Mona?"

There. She, along with Harriet, Day, and Teresa, had retreated halfway down the corridor to giggle and whisper together. I blinked and shifted my gaze to Ashley, who was the only one nearby who appeared as taken aback as I was. I tilted my ears in the damsels' direction.

"I daresay I must have missed a rather humorous joke just now. What's so funny?"

"I have no idea," he told me, sounding honest.

Caden laughed. Coming forward, he clamped a hand on both mine and Ashley's shoulders. "Ho, I'll tell ye boys what they're twittering about! In all my hundred thousand centuries of checking out drakes, I've  _never_  seen a lad who turned my head like that. Don't let that fancy-pants suit distract you- Tell me you both saw the muscles that beefcake was sporting. Might as well be modeling on fancy candle advertisements in Fairywood, aye?"

Ashley and I exchanged another look. He shrugged. I conjured Noon's calm, thin face in my mind again.

"Um. Well. He dressed very nicely, and his hair certainly had a wonderful shine. I'd be lying if I insisted I didn't notice how strong his wings were. I suppose he might have been a  _little_  cute."

Caden rolled his eyes and let us go. He floated off with his arms raised defensively in the air. "'Little.' Tch. I know I wasn't the only one ready to go to roost with him the moment that he asked. Boy had one of those faces. Not to mention, those  _legs_. Tarrow held back no punches when he slaughtered that drake with adulthood. Woo-wee, I'd like to get me a membership to his training arena."

"I didn't notice," Ashley said with a thoughtful tone in his voice. I scratched my cheek and fixed my glasses again.

"Hmm." Maybe the button-up, scholarly look just didn't do it for me. If I were to honestly consider the nitty-gritty details, I suppose I preferred windblown bangs brushed sideways over one eye, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and trousers with their hems hitched up. Perhaps long hair tied in the back and tossed in a deliberately messy way over one shoulder. I suppose I had rather simple tastes.

Anyway, it didn't really matter whether or not I felt anything for Noon. I didn't need another lover in my life right now. I had Mona.

After the night of Anti-Ember's funeral, the kisses we shared became more frequent. She and I roosted on the same branch of the array, and every once in a while, one of us would take initiative and pull the other in for a few quick smooches time. Within a decade, we became the couple best known for sickeningly affectionate romance in the entire colony, and over the years, others would come to us seeking advice about their own relationships while Mona and I were cuddled in some dusty nook underneath an end-of-corridor window. Still others would gossip about what they thought we did behind their backs. Not that there was much to be done yet, with both of us still yet to develop into full adulthood. Someday. Someday.

It was strange. Normally I fretted endlessly about what people thought of me, but with Mona, I found that I didn't actually care. Let the others watch. I was getting kissed by a damsel, and it wasn't my problem if they gossiped. Mona had waited for me for so long, and even that hadn't been enough to shatter her spirit or her loyalty. She must really want me. When I was with her, I could let my anxieties slip away.

Most of them.

"Would you ever think of joining the Anti-Bentleaf colony?" Mona asked me out of the blue. She dropped that on me during one of our little kissing sessions when I was a hint over 125,000 years old. We were in my private study, where Liloei and I had once been trapped, with the door most assuredly locked. Specifically, I sat in my desk chair with the first two buttons of my coat undone. Mona perched on my lap with the hem of her skirts pulled nearly  _halfway_  up her calves, as much as it flusters me to admit it. Yes, yes, I know. Again, I was a terribly scandalous youth; my mother was always quick to remind me of that. My hands curled around Mona's waist, and hers roamed through my hair. My parchments were strewn across the floor by now. Some of them were homework for the tiny Fairy school Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina had finally gotten me into, and others were for my reproductive research. I'd been on the cusp of a major breakthrough there, I just  _knew_  it. But, that could wait. I always let it wait.

At her sudden question, I jerked my head back, breaking us apart with a sharp smacking sound. "What?"

Mona lowered her head, batting her lashes a little too much for my liking just then. "It's taught tradition for drakes to leave their birth colonies when they come of age, and look at us. We're almost adults at 150,000. I just wondered how you felt about it."

A tingle crept along the bones of my wings. I wrinkled my forehead. "But Mona, you've lived here in the Anti-Coppertalon colony since you were a young pup. Well, most of the time, anyway. This is your home now. We have a castle. We have gardens. We have the privacy of this locked door. Why should we leave all this behind?"

"Hmm…" She placed her palms to my chest and leaned forward. Beneath my coat, I wore my favourite black shirt, with seven coloured circles representing the seven elements on the zodiac. Her hands pressed against Fire and Leaves, on either side of Love. "Ever consider starting an Anti-Lunifly colony?"

Her lips hovered in front of mine, not touching down. Their presence, even after all these millennia, quickened the rushing of my blood. I leaned my head away. My juvenile fangs hadn't fallen out yet. For some reason I was extremely aware of this fact as my tongue danced about my mouth in search of a place to hide. Earlier I'd rolled up one of my jacket sleeves. Now I wiped it across my forehead, just to be rid of some of my anxieties.

"Don't be absurd," I muttered. I fixed my askew eyeglasses for the thousandth time. "I'm not precisely the leader type. Why, even when we kiss, you always forget your place as a Soil and try to wield power over me. I daresay I suspect that's why you attempt to initiate our little wooing sessions so frequently, simply so you have some skill to lord above my head."

"Travelling in a bachelor colony is supposed to be a good experience for drakes. You'll practice your domestic magic, not relying wholly on servants or damsels to cook and clean up after you." Her eyes darted pointedly to the clothes and scrolls all over my floor. "I think it might be good for you."

My face purpled at the accusation.  _Me_ , reliant on servants or damsels? After all the centuries I'd spent alone? Perish the thought! "Mona, be serious! Were I to start a bachelor colony (or I suppose a not-quite bachelor colony seeing as you and I are betrothed), who would even want to go with me?"

"Electro?"

I snorted. "I daresay that by this point in our lives, he thoroughly hates me. I admire his intelligence and trust his judgment in all respects, but I've hardly exchanged friendly words with him since we were pups."

"Ashley?"

"No, I couldn't do that. He's… Ashley."

"Anti-Kanin?"

I twitched at the sound of Caden's adult name. He and the rest of his litter had had their ceremonies not long ago. Augustus would have too, had he been here. He was Anti-Robin Jr. now, out there somewhere bearing the name of our father as though he deserved to. "No. I couldn't. Not Anti-Kanin. We've all been such close friends since we were pups. It would be quite uncomfortable."

"Then Noon."

"No. He, um… Well, I'm just sure he wouldn't want to go. He's very busy with his schooling, you know. Believe me, I've seen his work."

Mona hummed absentmindedly. "Initiate asking around. Someone has to start the fire. Once you organise, you'll have plenty of drakes who want to come along. But don't dilly with damsels, of course." She tickled me beneath my chin. "I'd get jealous!"

Frankly, I didn't understand what was so different about damsels that she'd become more jealous of me being around them as opposed to drakes.  _But all right then,_  I told myself as I brought my mouth to Mona's once more. If my beloved requested it of me, then I wouldn't hang around alone with other damsels. A small price to pay when she cared for me so dearly.

Except, of course, I expected to be granted permission to hang around just  _one_  particular damsel. A damsel whom I'd lived with and loved longer than even Mona. She came to visit me out of the blue one day,  _gong_ ing into my study with a mere snap of her fingers. I was on the floor, fishing another box of scrolls from underneath my desk. My ears quirked back at the sound. Her sound was familiar. I smiled.

"Hello there, Liloei. Just one moment, if you don't mind, please. I'll be right with you."

I felt her drift a curious bob closer. "What is it that thou art doing?"

"Oof. Well, right now, I'm trying in vain to find any information that I can about my ancestors. Specifically, those born in a Water year like I was. After all, they're the only ones who should have been able to reincarnate into the me of the present day. This is a mere side-project because I'm curious, and there's little else I can do to progress my main research regarding Anti-Fairy reproduction loopholes until I come of age." I sighed and pulled out the box I'd been reaching for. "Unfortunately, most of the family records I  _have_  found are unfinished, and so many more are missing completely. There's just so  _much_  in Anti-Fairy World that's unorganised, even when I flew down to the library to pick these up. I don't want to do this. Ah, well." Shrugging once, I finally looked up at her. "How are you doi-  _Oh!"_

She smiled thinly. "Art thou surprised, Julius?"

I touched my lips. "I- I… I'm speechless. Congratulations."

The small bin in her arms concealed part of her body, but not quite enough to block the sight of her happy belly rounded with future baby genies. Liloei dipped her head, brushing her purple hair behind one ear.

"Good smoke," I cried, clapping my hands. "Why, it seems only last week that we were trapped together, and look at you now, all grown up with a family of your own. Ohhh, we have so much catching up to do. Come, come. Do sit. I want to hear everything."

"First, I wish to show thee this." Liloei extended her arms. I floated close to peer inside the bin she held, and realised with a sudden start that this bin was actually a sort of lamp. A small rose-coloured thing lay napping in one corner. The curls on its head were as purple as its mother's tail. It looked to be perhaps a few years old, simply because it was thick in the middle and appeared intelligent and alert, even while asleep. I could tell.

"Well, you've certainly been busy! I say, Liloei. Your little candle is absolutely beautiful. Is it a buck or a doe?"

"A doe. Her name is Lohai." She pronounced it "low-high." Liloei placed the bin on my desk and hugged her elbows. "Something critical has come up. She is very sick and not getting any better."

My smile faded. Without thinking, I'd been reaching for the baby genie, but hearing this, I pulled back my hand and held it to my chest. "Oh dear. I'm afraid I know next to nothing about genie health, but I'll certainly do my best to help you with her."

Liloei visibly relaxed when I said that. She swished her tail. "Wilt thou watch her for me, Julius? I need to go out. I shall be back for her quite soon. Please, just this little favour?"

Keep an eye on an adorable genie candle, and play with her a bit if she should wake unexpectedly? I chuckled. "All right. Alert me when you get back. Once you do, I'll head straight to the library and see what I can find on genies. Don't worry. We'll tackle this health issue together. Lohai will be fine. I promise."

Liloei nodded and  _gong_ ed away with a snap of her fingers. I moved Lohai's bin below my roost, took up a perch, and hung curiously above to watch her have her nap.

I knew better than to probe inside Lohai's bin and attempt to forcibly drag her out. And I was much too afraid that were I to block my door and trigger my room to act like a genie's lamp, Lohai wouldn't want to return to her container when I asked it of her, and I would be trapped for 70,000 years all over again. So I maintained my careful distance, and simply dropped fruits, vegetables, and the occasional mouse into her bin from above. They shrunk when they passed from my world to hers, and I wondered if Lohai was actually that small, or if her size appeared distorted while she was within her transparent lamp.

But days turned into weeks. Lohai was friendly, although she didn't speak much, and she lacked the playful energy one expects of children. I stayed with her constantly, playing with her as much as I could with her in her bin and asking Mona to bring me all my meals. Little Lohai slept quite a lot. Running a high fever, I suspected, although between my cold hands and natural genie warmth, it was difficult to tell for certain.

During her naps, I often sat beside her, paging through text after text and fumbling with scrolls, taking notes on all that I could regarding genies. Genies were supposed to stay warm. They required lots of sun and lots of iron. Hmm. Might iron deficiency be the issue here? Iron wasn't a natural metal in the cloudlands, after all, despite the fact that the Divide gate had been built from it.

Mona was born in a Soil year, and on top of that she had been born with the personality profile of a young veterinarian. She at once recognised that the iron connection paralleled the needs of rabbits, and when I exhausted my genie texts, she kept up a steady supply of books related to rabbit care. Ashley suggested I study snakes as well, because genies were rather snake-like from the waist down, after all. While I kept Lohai occupied, Mona took it upon herself to secure a shipment of iron-rich Earth dirt and bring it up to me. This, we carefully poured into Lohai's bin, while she squirmed about in this shower of soil.

"Wild rabbit kits can constantly absorb iron from the dirt they crawl around in," Mona explained to me, refilling Lohai's drip bottle. We didn't dare give her a water dish, knowing from the stories of our childhood how strongly even a few stray water droplets on the skin could affect a genie. Even the drip bottle might be risking her health, but alas, she did need it. It wasn't as though I could bottle-feed her without risking the possibility of entrapment in a genie's lamp again.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that before? Genies were native to Planet Mars before the Eros family bottled them up and relocated them to Planet Earth. Planet Mars is drowning in iron. But little Lohai here was born in the cloudlands. At least I think she was. Strange as it sounds, Liloei herself may have been born in an iron-rich environment and didn't even think about it." I wondered if my father had held onto Liloei's canteen in her youth because he wished to bring her to a place rich in iron and release her there. I supposed I would never know.

Mona nodded. She reached into Lohai's bin very carefully and stirred some of the dirt around with her claw. Her hand wavered, shrinking at the wrist when it passed through the place that would have been the lid of the box, so it appeared that her thick arm became a shrivelled twig. We'd found that reaching inside the box was possible, so long as we made no attempt to touch Liloei's body, even while wearing gloves, or else painful electric shocks would rattle along our skin. Mona said, "Study the composition of this soil so you can summon a supplement supply magically when next you know the need."

"Point taken." I made a face at Lohai as she burrowed under a heap of dirt. "She does tend to make quite the mess. Why, if dear Liloei takes much longer, I'll certainly be cleaning this bin often."

I did clean it often. And I waited. And waited some more. Then weeks turned into months, and the months dragged on, and only then did I finally realise that I had been had. You could have smacked me in the face, and the truth wouldn't have sunk in all the sooner. The day I knew it undeniably, I staggered back from the bin and into my desk, pressing my fingers to my lips.

"Oh my smoke. Liloei isn't planning to come back at all. Is she? She never was.  _I'm_  the unlucky unrelated foster parent she dumped her child on, just like in her stories of genie mothers. She… she…" I looked down at little Lohai, snug in her dirt box at the time and softly sleeping, her food dish and drip bottle within reach. My hands went to my hair. "What? No! Why, she would never! Not Liloei. Not my Liloei."

And yet the years went by. Liloei did not return.

And I? Did I toss her daughter out for the wild foops and coin sith to devour in the deepest clutch of night? Of course not. Let us not forget that I always desired a child of my own. Yes, I was young. Hardly more than a child myself, not even of legal age to do much of anything. And certainly, Lohai belonged to another species. I hadn't fathered her myself. Why, I might argue that I knew very little of genies at the time.

It didn't matter. Though she'd been Liloei's once, she was all mine now.

As Lohai began to grow, I started to allow her from her bin. True, the sight of the door vanishing from my wall never failed to fill me with anxiety, but Lohai obeyed me whenever I put her to bed in the bin again. So it was that I often locked us both in my doorless study so I might brush her hair and trim her fingernails with a pair of clips I'd brought in from Fairy World. Lohai and I practiced our different types of magic together and cheered one another on even when neither of us really understood the other's ways.

My sweet doe was gentle. Cheery. Quick with a joke, even when they were poor. She often sat in my lap and sucked her thumb while I read to her from picture books. Her rosy pink tail coiled from my lap, wrapping around my legs. She knew that with her light brown skin and purple hair, we were different on the outside. I never lied to her about that.

"Why, Papa Julius?" she pressed me one of those days as I washed her carefully down with a very lightly damp rag.

"We are different because you're a genie, darling." I circled the cloth around her ear. "An extraordinary noble and powerful creature of the universe."

"And you're an Anti-Fairy?"

"That's right. My place in the universe is to balance luck and karma, helping her achieve homeostasis. Your place is to wield raw magical energy that most beings such as I are simply incapable of handling."

Lohai shook her head. "Your place is to be my Papa Julius. You take care of me."

I kissed her forehead. "Well, I suppose that's true too, isn't it?"

With a soft giggle, Lohai nuzzled my neck. "I want you to take care of my babies one day just like you've taken care of me, Papa."

"… Well. Let's worry about that later, my dear. Your time will come one day, I'm sure, but for now, you have an entire childhood to enjoy. All right. Back in your bin for the night; there's a good girl. Have some pleasantly adventurous dreams, you wonderful little rascal."

She nestled down in her bed of iron-rich soil, coals, and low-burning embers. I shut the door to my study behind her, and smiled at Mona, who stood across the hall. "She's resting now. What say you and I go find a private place to squeeze in a spot of cuddling, hm?"

"I would be delighted, Papa Julius," she giggled back. I rolled my eyes and pushed her shoulder with my hand.

That's how it was, then. I had my girls: My mother, my soulmate, and my genie foster child. And for a short while, that satisfied me enough.

I did eventually take Mona's suggestion regarding the bachelor colony to heart, although I spent 3,000 years brooding over them. While I didn't consider myself leader material per se, she had slid an idea in my head, and I respected her advice immensely. I dwelt on it for weeks as I struggled to focus on my work. Then months, through periods both high and low. And somehow, early in the Summer of the Charged Waters at the age of 128,288, I found myself standing before the door to the Blue Castle's observatory-side sitting area, polishing and repolishing my glasses on the hem of my shirt as I battled to maintain my nervous composition.

After ruffling up my hair, I at last pushed open the door. Anti-Bryndin, dressed in a blue and silver robe and holding a teacup, knelt on the floor across from a freckled Fairy with an odd large crown and fuzzy brown hair. He wore an elegant red robe decorated in shining golden stars. I'd gotten to know him well over the past several millennia. This was Shamaiin Vieldgarr, who was seriously trying to win the position of Purple Robe during the elections this year. And winning too, thus far, due in part to the support we Anti-Fairies had showed him, I'm sure.

"I- I'm terribly sorry, High Count," I stuttered, shrinking behind the door again. "I didn't realise you were entertaining such an esteemed guest."

Shamaiin glowed at the compliment. Anti-Bryndin rolled his hand. "You have already interrupted. You can finish it."

"Yes, well." I inhaled pointlessly, puffing my cheeks. Then I blew the air out again. "Anti-Bryndin, I'm rapidly nearing the age of 150,000. As you know, it is tradition for drakes to leave their birth colony around the time they come into adulthood. With your permission, I think I'm ready to leave the castle with anyone who wishes to accompany me, and form my own travelling bachelor colony for a few thousand years. Mona will watch over Lohai until I return home to marry her."

Anti-Bryndin lifted his teacup to his mouth and drew out a long sip without breaking eye contact, brows raised. "It is cute that you think that, Julius. Go get a real job that can pay first. Then we will talk of your independence."

I ducked my head. "Yes, High Count."

A job? As I left the sitting room, my head swam in circles at the very idea. I was a supergenius! I didn't need a _job!_  Why, people should be falling at my feet in thanks that I bothered to waste my words on them at all! I was a fae who had spent almost the entirety of his life poring over historic texts, and for half that time, I'd been trapped in a genie's lamp. What sort of  _job_  was I even qualified for?

"Politics?" Anti-Kanin suggested when I asked him.

I snorted, taking up my picket sign. "You realise that with the Council elections going on, we are literally engaged in a heated political event right  _now_ , and we're not even on the chopping block here. Frankly, I'm not sure my nerves could take it if I was."

"I think you'd make a great member of the Anti-Fairy Council someday, matey."

"Great, so that means two votes in my favour and 50,000 against. I'm a shoo-in." I hefted my picket sign over my shoulder, squinting through the Barrier at the random Fairies passing by on their way to do 'jobs.' Raising my voice, I shouted, "Remember the people you'll hurt if you vote Jameswin!"

"Don't vote Jameswin!" Ashley joined in.

Anti-Kanin flew higher. "Arr, keep Mortikor in office."

"Vote for Cattahan. He's true blue."

"If you care at all for Anti-Fairy rights, vote Shamaiin for the Central Star Region."

We kept that up all morning, until the Fairies stopped skimming by. Then we broke for lunch. No matter. They would pass us by again when they went home for the afternoons, unless they all decided to  _poof._  Anti-Kanin tossed me a sandwich. I checked inside, then threw it back.

"No cheese, if it isn't any trouble. You know I can't stand cheese."

He gave me another sandwich in its place, slowly. "Now, here's a thought 'bout your troubles finding work, matey: Why don't ye visit the Water Temple? Perhaps Sunnie would give you some advice. Ye are born in his year, after all."

"I doubt he'll appear for someone like me," I muttered, reaching down to adjust the leg of my trousers over my sock. Oh, how I hated socks. They gather lint, they bunch in your shoes, and we Anti-Fairies hadn't yet mastered manufacturing ones that suited our opposable toes. No one had made me wear socks back when we dressed in tunics instead of cotton britches. I'd had knee-high stockings that didn't bother me quite this much. "I'm not but the off-kilter son of a concubine and a goody-goody servant, remember? Why should Sunnie have any interest in me or my mortal wants?"

Ashley looked over at us from down the row. After he swallowed his bite of sandwich, he said, "He doesn't have to appear and talk to you for the trip to be worth it. We're not supposed to visit the Temples just because we hope we'll get lucky enough to speak directly to a spirit. The Temples are also a place where we can simply go to clear our heads. In that environment, you might figure out what it is you want- whether that's Sunnie's direct doing or not."

"Hmm."

Anti-Kanin nudged my shoulder. "Aye, the skipper's right on that one, matey. You learn all sorts of hidden facets 'bout your wants and needs when you lay yourself out before the spirits. Perhaps ye might finally find out a thing or two about your past life."

I bobbed my head, unconvinced. "I suppose so. Oh, I say, Anti-Kanin- Have you learned whether you're a reincarnation of anyone yet? Or are you a new soul?"

He scratched the bristled fur along his chin. "I'm my seven-times great grandfather. Known it since I was 40,000. Lucky triple 7, born on a Friday in the Love year, we'd say."

"And you're sure about that?"

Anti-Kanin upturned his hands. "When ye know, ye just know."

I sighed, squeezing my sandwich with my thumbs. "Oh, I don't know. I mean, most of the Water Temple lies undercloud, doesn't it? Being undercloud isn't really my thing. Tight spaces make me uncomfortable. I wouldn't say  _nervous_ , as such, but I just don't like them. At least not undercloud. I mean, what if it should collapse on top of me? What if all that weight comes crashing down upon my head and kills me outright?"

"You'll regenerate?" Ashley offered.

I mulled over this statement for a moment as I ate, then heaved my wings in a shrug. "Well, I suppose that's true. All right, you've talked me into it. I'll have Mona look after Lohai for a day or two, and try to visit it sometime soon. It's more difficult for me than for either of you, being a Water year, because the Fairies have jurisdiction over Sunnie's Temple. Anti-Fairies are only permitted inside one day a week. That means I  _have_  to visit Faeheim on Sunday, no exceptions, and chances are the worship rooms have all been booked months in advance. I suppose I did want to pay a visit to Ambrosine anyway. You know, let him hear how I've been doing and such. Perhaps I'll take a hooded coat and gloves so I don't stick out like a broken crown, hm?"

I didn't have the opportunity to visit the Water Temple until Naming Day, in the Spring of the White Sun. Visiting the Temple at the beginning of a Sky year, the literal day following the end of Sunnie's reign this zodiac cycle, felt so horribly wrong, but it had to be done. Luna's Landing was rich with the thrills of the new year, but I politely excused myself from the bubbly festivities and winged my way to the border with Fairy World alone. Funny. The ruins of the Anti-Eros tower remained as decrepit as I remembered it. I wondered where Anti-Venus, Anti-Charite, and Anti-Ludell had moved their base of operations too, if they were even out there somewhere capturing Anti-Fairy souls these days at all.

As strict and intimidating as the Barrier was (for Anti-Fairies anyway), my people were allowed into Fairy World if we were on pilgrimage to the Zodiac Temples. Provided, of course, that we were escorted by a certain number of Fairies everywhere we went. I couldn't be _lieve_  my misfortune when the lead escort assigned to me turned out to be Jorgen von Strangle, along with a small, freckled, half-fairy, half-elf who identified himself as Binky. He turned out to be a friendly little fellow, who struck up a conversation with me about the Water Temple as I waited for my passport to be approved at the border crossing desk.

"I've always liked the Zodii teachings myself," Binky admitted to me, tapping his chin. "I've always thought it would be interesting to pursue. I've heard that when the Zodii want to seriously call upon a nature spirit in their Temple, they always travel to the Temple by foot or by wing, without using any magic. Is that right?"

I nodded. "A proper pilgrimage must be done without magic. Many Anti-Fairies end up in colonies near the Temple of the zodiac they were born under for precisely that reason. It isn't unusual to encounter an entire colony of Love years in Luna's Landing, or Fire years in Solsbirth, or Soil years in Mudhale. You know… all the Temples in Anti-Fairy World."

Jorgen stopped picking at his reflective escort vest and looked up. His eyebrows bunched. "Are we taking the tram, then? Seriously?"

After reminding Jorgen that it was my right as an Anti-Fairy to choose where in Fairy World I would go, provided I was escorted appropriately (and after he soothed Jorgen's ruffled irritation regarding that particular law), Binky turned to me again. He smiled a faraway smile. "We Fairies usually just  _poof_  from room to room.  _Poof_ ing short distances doesn't even require a wand. It's so interesting to find these differences in our cultures, don't you think? I write poetry, you know, and every now and again I like drawing on your beliefs for inspiration."

"Really? What's your zodiac?"

"I'm a Love year."

How curious. I'd have pinned him for a Leaves.

Jorgen and Binky were reluctant to let me out of their sight at first, but when we arrived in Faeheim, I encouraged them to enjoy the city's little shops and attractions, subtly reminding them of the long and dull wait ahead if they chose to come inside the Temple with me. "I do hope you won't tire of standing about this simply lovely Temple," I said while looking Jorgen in the eyes with false concern. "It's my first time ever coming here, and the Water Temple is always the most difficult to visit. I won't be long: Only seven hours or so."

Jorgen needed no further encouraging. He tugged on Binky's arm, pleading for fried food on a wand-shaped stick. To my surprise, it was Binky who seemed to have the authority to make the final call, and he studied me for a careful moment before a smile broke across his face. The two of them happily left me there on the Temple steps, and I mused over the fact that it hadn't been very difficult to trick them into leaving me alone in Fairy World. Perhaps another day, I might take advantage of that.

But for now, I lifted the curtains aside and stepped inside the Water Temple for the very first time in all my young life.

Even after breaking free of Liloei's lamp, I'd very simply never tried to go. Faeheim was the  _Fairy World capital_ , splendid and bright and colourful and modern and sleek, just as I had imagined it to be. As a pup, I had longed to visit the city. I don't know what happened to change my mind. Perhaps I grew up, or perhaps my visit to the Breath Temple terrified me silly. In addition, because I'd always had my father's blessing tokens to pray to when I desired to feel that I was communicating to the spirits, I'd never really seen the need. Mother had never tried to encourage it despite the fact that she crossed Anti-Fairy World to visit Saturn's Temple every Saturday without fail (but then again,  _she_  always  _poof_ ed since she was the High Count's personal guard and should never be away from him long). I'd always felt anxious about wasting Sunnie's time with my small, pathetic problems anyway.

For all these reasons, I, despite my 128,289 years, had never stepped inside the Water Temple before. Of course Anti-Penny had shown me a few floor plans and carved elements during my architect training, but it was certainly fascinating to experience the building with my own eyes and ears. It was large and square, pale blue, its roof triangular and lifted up on white, rounded pillars.

Unlike most of the Zodiac Temples, the Water Temple consisted of two buildings- an upper entrance building for the public, and a lower set of rooms tucked quietly below the rowdy streets. When I came inside through the beautiful woven curtains at the front, I crossed paths with acolytes dressed in turquoise, black, and white. They darted about, cleaning cloths in hand, as they wiped away the traces of Fairy tourists who had been wandering around in the last week when Anti-Fairies were denied entry. The Zodii Anti-Fairies, anyway.

The entry chamber was not much to look at. It was small, and square, with four sides open to the world. Down a few steps from where I stood, the entire floor became a clear pool that probably reached all the way up to my knees. The gaps between the pillars around the chamber's edges showed glimpses of the bustling city outside. Three grey boulders carved into vague chairs sat at the other end. I greeted the busy acolytes, and crossed through the small building only so I could enter the rear garden.

Oh, the garden was simply smashing, even though it was simple too. There were no trees, but the borders were lined with hedges, and the grass was springy with health. A stone path meandered back and forth among boulders and statues. The most interesting feature of the garden, I thought, was the curious small waterfall that poured from a jutting rock. It appeared to a fountain of sorts, draining into the ground and spurting from the top again in an endless loop. This rock formation created a sort of archway or tunnel you could walk through, and the thin waterfall poured over the far end like a curtain. Amused, I walked through it several times, until my clothes and fur were positively soaked. I chuckled as I shook myself off. Imagine, if you would- washing up beneath water pouring down on you from above! With that, I moved towards two brass statues of turtles, and began to descend the white crystal stairs between them into the undercloud portion of Sunnie's Temple.

I made it only three steps down before my entire body seized up.  _No._  Not a tunnel. Not underground. Not again.  _Never again._

Blood and bile filled my throat. My legs wobbled, threatening to give out. Ancient instincts kicked in. I turned and scrambled back to the top of the steps in blind panic, whereupon I flopped over in the grass and emptied my stomach of butterflies. The sight of them only made me cry harder. My claws had scratched the steps after I'd fallen, so hard that one was peeling now. The turtle statues judged me unkindly from their perches above. I swore I heard the muffled laughter of an acolyte from somewhere beyond the hedges.

After a moment of unease, I forced myself to sit up, and peered into the depths of the Temple once more. My chest heaved. In. Out. In. Out. I wiped a stray insect thorax from my lips. My nerves squealed.

Don't go down there. Don't ever set foot in the tunnels again. If I went down there, I would die. That much was certain.

"Clarice?" I whimpered. Could it be? After all, those couldn't be  _my_  memories swirling around in my head. Why, I'd never set foot in a tunnel like this one in my life, so how could it be my fault that I reacted so strongly to going down there?

Yes, that was it. These were Clarice's thoughts. Not mine.

Wary now, I pulled my coat more tightly around me, bringing my knees to my chest. It was several long minutes before my shaking stopped. Once it had, I rose to my feet, and tried again.

 _Don't go down there._ Her thoughts were muddled, and punctured my soul with feelings more than coherent words. They felt like my own thoughts, even though I didn't know why I was thinking them.  _Were_  they my thoughts? Attaching my name to them felt alarming.

I went down another stair.

_Don't go in._

I took another step.

 _That's how they get you._ _They trap you while your back is turned._

Step.

_They'll leave me here to die. Ungrateful warriors._

Step.

_What am I doing? What if Sunnie sees me? Will he even remember me?_

Step.

_How am I supposed to explain how I ended up like this?_

Step.

_That old trick isn't bound to work a second time._

Step.

_You'd think a dame would learn._

Gradually, my thoughts -  _Clarice's_  thoughts, mind you - faded to an uneasy background mutter. My breathing eased until it ended. I forced myself to sip filtered magic from Cosmo's core once again, instead of panting useless air. I blinked. Yes. The details along the walls here were incredible, with light carvings of rivers and raindrops guiding my path. Down here, the noise of Faeheim's streets died away. By the glow of the blue torches, I could make out a corridor which split into two up ahead- One passage curving sharply to the left, and one to the right. The white wall between them had been painted with a mural that depicted the most scholarly-looking turtle I had ever seen in my life. He dressed in a white robe, with a hooked staff that bore a paper lantern in one hand and an unfurled scroll in the other. Despite the one he held, the blue turtle seemed to be absorbed with the shelves of scrolls behind him.

Moving slowly so as not to set off my anxieties, I took one of the paths around the wall. They met back up in the centre on the other side. There, I found another set of stairs, leading even deeper down. I bit my lip, but followed them anyway. To my surprise, when I reached the bottom, I found myself standing on a transparent glass floor. It had fogged slightly, wet with condensation from the clouds around it, but I could see the land below. Only, rather than the golden-leaved ipewood forest I expected, I found myself staring down at a rather barren chunk of the Barrenglades on Plane 4. Sickly-looking green pools covered the valley in rivers and waterfalls. The ground appeared rocky. Black. Scorched. It was as though I were gazing into a giant bucket of acidic destruction. Never had I seen ruined landscape within Fairy World's borders, and I puzzled over it as I continued on my way. What a strange choice of design. Very strange indeed.

The passage grew very bright not far ahead. My corridor soon opened into a round room with an intense beam of white sunshine in the centre, searing a column from the ceiling to the middle of the floor. Another corridor on the other side led deeper into the Temple, but I had to pause and squint. As a creature of Anti-Fairy World, I naturally favoured darkness over light, especially when said light rippled in the air before me like a physical thing.

That wasn't even the most interesting part. A large dagger hung suspended in the sizzling beam of light, just high enough that I could reach out and take hold of it. The solid inrita blade glinted down at me, sleek and black. It glittered rainbow in the light. The silver hilt was bejewelled with massive chunks of turquoise. Unable to even express my wonder verbally, I stretched out my hand, and let it hover near the padded grip. For just a moment, I waited. I'd expected someone to appear suddenly behind me, startling me with a droning, "Please don't touch," that would make me spin around. I heard nothing. No one stopped me. No one was around.

Squaring my shoulders, I clenched my hand around the hilt and pulled it from the beam of light. A few of its sparkles died away, but I was not struck with white nose syndrome nor cast off my feet in a flash flood. I felt just fine.

I brought the blade near my eyes for close examination, knowing better than to rest the bare inrita against my skin. Even if I did manage to avoid cutting myself, contact didn't seem to be the wisest choice I could make at this time. A wound caused by inrita did not heal naturally, and treatment tended to be enormously expensive. Burning inrita was always disastrous, more so in areas thick with magic, for the explosions could level buildings and fling even non-magical beings back from the force. It was for good reason that Fairy merchants kept jars of the stuff in liquid form on their shelves, for inrita prevented the use of magic around it entirely. Indeed, I deduced that it must be the presence of the great inrita dagger which disabled the use of magic and flight in the Temple. The Temple walls themselves might not have anything to do with it.

The craftsmanship was incredible. The blade sang in my hand, even when she wasn't in use. I knew her name in Vatajasa, too:  _Väikalle_   _d'Järveii._  Princess of the Sacred Ripple.

All of a sudden, I was struck in the head with the most brilliant idea I'd ever had:  _Steal the dagger._

I mean, it was the obvious path, wasn't it? Just after my encounter with the snake during my  _canetis_ , Anti-Bryndin had plainly explained to me that an Anti-Fairy under the effects of inrita poisoning was not susceptible to the honey-lock. Why, all I had to do was give Mona and myself each a whack with this thing, and the honey-lock would be the farthest trouble from our minds! And then came all the children. I planned to have pups by the dozen!

Hmm. Was this blade truly forged of inrita, or was this but a clever replica? It seemed reasonable to check it first before I enacted my plan to claim it for my own. Silently, I raised the blade towards my own throat. I drew it away again, rearing back over my shoulder for a mighty swing which would fly around and dislodge my head completely from my shoulders in an instant-

"Whoa, tap the breaks there, little manticore."

I jerked towards the damseline voice, dropping the dagger to the transparent floor. It clattered and clanged. Thoughts of wielding it against myself vanished with an audible pop like a drink splashing from a pitcher to a goblet. A high ringing mocked my ears nonetheless. It pierced my soul to its base, tore me in two, and stitched me up again. It rattled my fangs until they blurred.

She was a fairy. Young, about my own age. Her eyes were brilliantly green, and her hair so golden that it practically glowed. She dressed almost entirely in white, with a yellow flower stuck through her wide-brimmed hat. Tiny stars twinkled at her ears. Over her shirt, she wore a pink vest with the buttons undone. Her entire aura radiated peace and light, but my nerves couldn't take even that. The fairy glanced over me up and down, then clucked her tongue at the sight of  _Väikalle_   _d'Järveii_  still lying where I'd dropped her. She placed her fists against her hips.

"Oh, no no no, that simply won't do. We can't just leave such a precious treasure sprawled across the floor like this."

"I'm sorry!" I blurted, shuffling two steps back. My wings flapped three times, snapping like kicking legs. How far was it to the passage behind me? Could I make it there before this damsel reached me? Did she know this place better than I did? Would she catch me if I tried to run?

But to my surprise, she held her hand out for me to take. Palm turned inward the way that Fairies greet, rather than palm facing up as a ranking Anti-Fairy extends to a subordinate. "I'm Dame Ellie Sunshine," she told me. "What's your name?"

I stared at her palm. It was her right hand. I'd been told that Fairies only shook with their left, because the right palm was the place that magic left our bodies strongest. Even so, I cautiously reached out my own to meet her. "J-Julius."

"Your full name, please," she urged with a warm smile. She grasped my hand in hers. It was warm. Very, very warm, even for a Fairy. The fur prickled on the back of my neck. I took half a step further backward, wondering whether it was my imagination, or if I'd just felt a breeze coast across the room.

"Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly."

No. There was definitely a breeze. I didn't know how that was possible underground, but there was no mistaking it. My eyes darted first left, then right. Then to Dame Sunshine again. She smiled even wider, and squeezed my hand very, very tightly before she let it drop. Her hand sparked with magic pulses. I swallowed.

"Dame, I am so sorry. I- I'm really not sure what came over me. I- I- I have these moments where my anxiety becomes unbearably overwhelming, and so- so- maybe I- I- I don't-"

"No harm done." She smiled at me brightly and extended her arm again, her hand upturned to grasp the hilt. "Just hand me that nasty little sword and we'll forget this whole mess ever happened!"

I nodded rapidly and bent down to pick  _Väikalle_   _d'Järveii_ up again. But I hesitated. Puzzled thoughts swirled through my head like a shaken snow globe. When I'd held that dagger, I hadn't been thinking very clearly. For smoke's sake, I'd been about to slice my head off- with an  _inrita_   _blade!_  Unsupervised and alone, with no one to comfort me through the pain following regeneration. Had I gone mad?

But Dame Sunshine was still waiting. Fairies owned the Water Temple, for it lay in their capital city and they'd never sold it to my people. Dame Sunshine must be one of the Fairy acolytes who looked over it during the days of the week when Anti-Fairies weren't permitted to come here. She certainly acted as though she had authority to be here, even if she was wearing all the wrong colours for the Water Temple. And so… I took hold of the sword again, and lifted it before my eyes. I rotated my wrist first in one direction, then the other. My reflection appeared so scrawny, my cheeks so sunken, my eyes so hollow.

"May I have the sacred dagger now, Julius?"

Slowly, I twisted my arm so I might place the hilt in Dame Sunshine's hand without either of us touching the terrible black blade. Her emerald eyes widened with passion. When she grinned, I could see the points of her fangs.

"Yes, yes, that's it. You're doing so well! Just give her to me."

"I… shouldn't…"

My thoughts felt blurry. I stood in an awkward way with my head to the side, staring at her very un-Fairy-like teeth, but Dame Sunshine beckoned me forward again with both hands. Her hat's brim had tilted downwards. The yellow flames licking at the cuffs of her sleeves were lightening, while the rest of her clothing darkened. Her vest took on a deep periwinkle blue. Streaks of white curled from her scalp and flickered through her hair.

"Almost… mine…"

"Please don't touch," interrupted a deeper voice, although it was equally damseline. I screeched and dropped the dagger again, spinning around just as before.  _Väikalle_   _d'Järveii_  crashed against glass. The speaker's accent was strongly Mangermese, low and guttural, and she looked it, too. I met her gaze with rising panic in my chest.

The new damsel was young, her face smooth and narrow. She stood in the corridor behind me, leaning her back and one foot against the wall. Arms folded. To my utter relief, she was an Anti-Fairy. An anti-swanee, to be exact, since she had horns on her head that curved up just like Anti-Bryndin's. Like all the acolytes I'd glimpsed thus far, she wore a simple worship robe patterned in alternating horizontal stripes of black, white, and turquoise blue. Although if I wasn't mistaken, hers appeared to be, um… very  _unnecessarily_  low-cut around the bodice. A brooch the size of a plum rested against her bare sternum, as though melded directly into her skin. Her hair gleamed a natural shade of silver, and although she'd pulled it somewhat high in several elaborate ties and braids, it still flowed so far down her back that it brushed the backs of her knees.

I really liked that look, the long hair tied up and all, but truthfully, what most effectively stole my words away were her deep, glowing lips and the liquid shadows patterned around her eyes. Her eyelashes were white, and alight as though with gentle fire. I mean,  _gods_. I thought I knew the ins and outs of make-up products after enough spontaneous afternoons of letting Mona show me how it all worked, but I wanted this damsel to teach  _me_  to look like that.

Dame Sunshine straightened her vest, her snarl coming out in her voice like lightning crackles in a storm. My clothing rustled as though caught in a long, low wind. The breeze was picking up around us. She spat, "You took your time, High Acolyte. I nearly claimed a champion."

The High Acolyte's apple-green eyes went up and down over us both. She tightened her folded arms. "So I see."

Stepping past me, Dame Sunshine pressed, "But it only would have been for a little while, sweetie. When you next go whining to my uncle, tell him I'll bring the Princess back as soon as the spear is in my hands. I swear. Please. All I need is the spear, and I can single-handedly end the Great Ice Times, I swear."

I'd started to tremble, stuttering an apology that wouldn't come out right.

"Go home, Ellie," said the anti-swanee coldly. "You already had your chance to play with fire. Didn't your burns teach you anything?"

Dame Sunshine snapped up straight, fingers splaying at her sides. She took half a step backwards and nearly bumped into me. "Ellie is my nickname. My friends call me Ellie.  _You_  can call me by my professional name:  _Mary Alice."_

At that, I blinked and looked up. One of the murals painted on a rear corridor of the Blue Castle depicted a story of two Suns. One was far, far smaller than the other, for it was Princess Eve's to carry, and she preferred the convenient light weight to the extravagant level of splendor Prince Morn did. it was the story of how the lightning spirit Helena, eldest daughter of Saturn and Munn, and granddaughter of both Prince Morn and Princess Eve, had stolen her grandmother's sun while Princess Eve rested beside a den of watchful foops, whom she had created by her own hand, for of course, foops are wolves of the stars and the wolf is her totem animal. According to the ancient records, when Helena tried to sneak off with her prize, the foops howled to wake their creator. Helena had to flee before she had the chance to steal her grandmother's magic gloves. So Helena, gloveless, carried the Sun all the way to Plane 19 before it burned her feathers black. The heat at last became too great, and she was forced to let it drop. The Sun plunged through all the Planes of Existence, until it fell so deeply down that it scorched a hole in the universe. There, it brought forth the scorched wasteland we sometimes knew as Hell, after the one who'd caused such a fate.

Some versions of the story simply proclaimed that Helena had been banished from Plane 23 altogether, to wander mortal worlds. Others suggested that Helena had always desired to inherit the task of carrying the Sun above the Earth from Prince Morn, but that following her treachery, Princess Eve had burdened her with the dark and heavy moon instead. Its flames had been extinguished when it fell. Now it was but damaged rock, and there was no glory in it now. Princess Eve took its shattered remains and scattered them throughout the heavens to create the stars. So Helena lingered on the outskirts of the world, forever forced to hide in the moon's dark shadow, as she passed her existence in jealous rage. She followed behind the Sun as fast as she could fly, but Prince Morn was surer of foot, and always remained just beyond her reach. The wolves never forgot the way she wronged their mother, and howl after her to this day. Helena, once so proud, had become the accursed bringer of doom.

For some reason, as I stood between these two damsels who spoke so fiercely of fire and sunshine, I, um, I couldn't help but play that story again in my mind. In particular, the part of these tales that always remained the same: that Helena even now drove every lightning spirit who crossed her path into fearful hiding, lest they dare try to steal her desired inheritance from under her nose. And I wondered about Clarice's past, and whether she had fled from Helena's rage before she'd bumbled into my soul and we'd ended up entangled. Clarice was silent in my head for the moment. Lying low, tucked beneath the awareness level of her elder sister? Perhaps. I couldn't be sure.

"Mark my words, Sapphyrisine," Dame Sunshine growled. "I will find my champion, and I will have my reward."

 _Sapphyrisine_  was the word for  _Turquoise_  in Vatajasa. The name was ceremonial, bestowed upon every High Acolyte of the Water Temple (whether Fairy, Anti-Fairy, Refract, or whatever other race they may be) once their past had been cast aside and their life given in pure, unending service to Temple upkeep. The anti-swanee watched me with a steady, silent gaze as though she could read my high-strung thoughts. Unable to return it, I hunkered into my shoulders. My ears shifted towards Dame Sunshine.

"Go home, Mary Alice," the High Acolyte repeated, more firmly this time. "We all have our shackles to answer for."

Dame Sunshine - Ellie - Mary Alice - Helena - whoever she was, she stood stiffly behind me. The energy field hissed and whispered all around her. Without saying anything else, she turned on her heel and stormed off towards the entrance of the Temple. The rushing wind snapped about and then chased after her. I didn't know what to make of that. My thumping core told me it was unthinkable that  _Helena herself_  could have crossed my path, but my ears protested that the powerful aura radiating through the energy field did not lie.

Sapphyrisine gestured at  _Väikalle_   _d'Järveii_ with a nod of her head. "You know, the Princess doesn't take kindly to being wielded by anyone except her chosen mate. I'm certain that Sunnie would like to see his warrior bride returned to her proper place."

My hands flashed back to my mouth. "Yes, yes, of course! I- I'm so terribly sorry. You see, it's just that I, ah, really did want to take a look at that fine blade. I've heard of her so many times in my nursery stories, and I suppose that being here in the Temple for the first time, I, er, simply became a bit carried away. I'm so sorry. I meant no harm. I don't know what I was thinking."

It was Clarice. Yes, that was it. Clarice did it to me. The idea to steal the dagger, and then to try and  _wield_  it? Ha! Those had been her thoughts in my brain, not mine. I would never. I was innocent.

"You're left-handed," Sapphyrisine observed.

"No, I… I wield my wand with my right, mostly. I mean, I do sometimes, for the most serious matters, but I, um, I only ever write with my left. I-it's both. I use both, but only sometimes, you know what I mean?"

Oh dear, I was babbling. Why was I babbling to this dame? My wings squirmed. I lowered my eyes, pressing my toes together.

Sapphyrisine nodded slowly. Bending down, she gripped the dagger by its handle and lifted it from the floor. "And you hold a weapon in your left hand, too."

"I- I don't know," I stammered, still royally flustered. "I mean, I've never tried. Certainly not with this blade. This, um, this is my first time here. I really don't get out of Anti-Fairy World much. Erm. Ah. All right, then." I adjusted my glasses with two fingers. The Clarice in me was growing restless, wondering again about the likelihood of a tunnel collapse. My legs began to jitter, and my wings were much the same. "D-do you by any chance know where I might find the, um… water closet?"

She used the sword to point down the corridor she had emerged from. "Just down the hall, first door on your right."

"Thank you, thank you!" I hurried off to use it. When I walked past the circular room again, just because I was curious,  _Väikalle_   _d'Järveii_  was back in her proper place floating in the beam of light. Sapphyrisine was conversing with a lower acolyte who must have heard the sacred dagger crashing to the floor and come to see if all was well. I shivered and moved on before they could notice me.

 _If this place caves in, I'll die,_  part of my brain fretted, stirring awake again. The other part had to actively remind it,  _I'm an Anti-Fairy. I'll regenerate._

It made sense, I reflected. After all, Clarice was supposed to be a lightning spirit. If there was somewhere lightning most certainly did not belong, that would be the deep, dark underground…

I walked on, not finding any acolytes who could escort me in the right direction. So at a triple break in the path, I took the wide, forward corridor. This soon led me through a scalloped curtain and down another deep, deep set of steps, until I came up against a truly enormous white door. The surface had been decorated with carved lilies and splashing waterfalls. Why, it had to be eight times my height, easily! It glowed in the pale torchlight. Puzzled, I stared up at it for a moment, wondering what treasure on the other side could be so precious that it required higher protections than  _Väikalle_   _d'Järveii._ Where were the acolytes who ought to have acted as my guides? Was this even where the worship rooms were? I'd expected a cluster of doors grouped together. And how was I, a mere child, supposed to open this door anyway?

 _Deep, deep down,_  Clarice fretted. Or maybe it was me. I wouldn't be able to say with confidence, for our souls were intertwined, you know.

I felt my hands along the door, and to my surprise, quickly found a catch. My hand closed around some sort of knob hidden among the lily pads. That seemed promising. It twisted, and I heard it click, but the door didn't open. I continued twisting the knob all the way around. Hmm. After a moment's thought, I lay my cheek and ear against the door. Aha! In this new position, I could perfectly hear the soft clicking of the knob intertwining with latches and gears behind the scenes.  _Click. Click. Click. Click-_

 _Thunk._  Something definitely unlocked.

My curiosity piqued, I played with the knob for several minutes more, until my seventh  _thunk_  was rewarded. The door  _moved_  beneath my cheek. Rosy, blue-tinted light leaked around its edges. My mouth fell open in delight. I stepped backwards, shielding my face, as the great door eased itself slowly inward. Too eager to wait for it to open in full, I came forward and poked my head through the gap. I was greeted by a pleasant, peaceful room with white floor tiles and blue walls. The silhouettes of several bridges had been painted like shadows around the chamber. Several trunks, chests, and dressers lined the edges of the room. It looked rather friendly, almost like a sitting room. Except…

Wait.

_Wait._

Oh my smoke, of course! That explained the elegant door! Why, I'd stumbled into  _Sunnie's echo chamber!_

Hurriedly, or at least as hurriedly as a young anti-fairy can haul a massive door, I pulled it shut again. The locks clicked back into place with an audible  _clunk._ My face had flushed completely cold. The echo chamber was the special worship room intended for only the most serious of worshipers in the most serious of occasions. I was but a child, with no right to step inside. At the triple split in the paths just before I'd descended the stairs, I probably ought to have gone either right or left. That would surely lead me to the public worship rooms.

I began to scurry off. But then I stopped, one foot resting on the lowest step of the stairs.

You know, perhaps one last peek wouldn't hurt…

With a master's hand, I released the locks again. Once more, the great white door creaked softly on its great hinges and granted me entry to Sunnie's private sleeping quarters. He wasn't in, but I hadn't expected him to be. Well, specifically, I understood that he was bound to this room on another plane of reality, Plane 23. The heavenly plane overlapped the mortal world, and so it was quite possible he actually  _was_  here in spirit and could see me prodding around. But for some reason, I highly doubted he would be offended enough by my curiosity to manifest himself here on Plane 5 and confront me. After all, I was only looking about. I wasn't doing any harm. He'd understand.

The echo chamber was very lovely. Trails of beads were strung from the ceiling, and in some places dangled to the floor. Wispy, semi-transparent curtains of mesh divided the room in several parts. Some sort of large tank took up a lot of space on the far side of the room, though between the curtains and my poor eyesight, I couldn't determine what types of fish were kept inside. To my left stood a pure white desk with several wooden boat models standing upon it, along with quite a few skyships inside of bottles. To the right, I found a beautiful cushioned sleeping pallet, coated in hundreds of thick, cosy animal pelts. Something about it nagged in the back of my mind.

"Wait." I furrowed my brow, staring at the pallet long and hard. "I know this place." My hand moved up to my chest. "I've been here before, in another lifetime." I touched my forehead, scraping my bangs off to the side. "It's so clear, and yet so terribly fuzzy, too."

Some of the minor details about the room could have shifted. I sensed that it wasn't exactly as I remembered it to be, although I wouldn't have been able to explain what I felt had changed. There was no doubt in my mind anymore: I was a reincarnation of one of my ancestors. This place rang too familiar in my brain for there not to be. There were dozens of reasons I might have visited the echo chamber in my most recent life. To pray for the sick, or to cry desperately for understanding.

And of course, there was one possible reason that buzzed around my ears louder than all else. Might I have kiff-tied with Sunnie once before? Knelt on this very floor and sliced my throat with  _Väikalle d'Järveii_ until I turned to smoke and he to steam, binding anti-fairy and nature spirit alike in a single flesh? Automatically, my other hand pressed against the left side of my neck, where my karmic pouch beat beneath my skin with a gentle pulse. There were no cuts there, no scars. Not in my current incarnation, anyway.

I circled the echo chamber half in a daze, spending far longer in there than I perhaps should have. I examined things on shelves both high and low, keeping my hands clasped respectfully behind my back. I tried to avoid picking up objects, except when my insatiable curiosity got the better of me, but I always took care to set goblets and scrolls down precisely as I had found them. Sunnie didn't mind, I'm sure of it. Especially if he and I truly had kiff-tied before. As I said, I wasn't causing any lasting damage.

Before I left the chamber, I found my attention dragged to the pelt-laden pallet again. Several finely-decorated blue cushions appeared to indicate where one would place their head if they were to lie down. I stared at the largest cushion in the centre of the heap. Then, flashing out my arm, I grabbed underneath it. My hand closed around something very small and hard. I had no idea what it might be, but I didn't dare look at it. Not in here.

For just a moment more, I kept my gaze on the ceiling and stood there, softly, in gentle wonder. Then I withdrew from the room again, closed the echo chamber door with the respect it deserved. When I opened my fist, I found a shiny black button with four holes and a bit of loose red thread lying in my palm. I didn't recognise it. But some primal instinct in me assured me it was rightfully  _mine._

No, it didn't make any sense. But that was  _my_  button beneath the cushion. When you know, you just know.

I shoved the button into the pocket of my coat, and ascended the stairs with a shudder in search of the simpler worship rooms. Clarice was grateful to head upward. So was I.

You see, in addition to the echo chamber, every Temple also included plenty of smaller worship rooms for more common Anti-Fairies such as myself, or even Fairies who chose to visit. It was in one of these private rooms that I donned my prayer robe and knelt before a mosaic of Sunnie. He looked rather a lot like a water genie in this depiction, with pointed ears and no legs from the waist down. His skin shone turquoise, and his liquid hair poured down his back in a pegasustail waterfall. He wore a simple white vest without any sleeves. Watery bracelets encircled his wrists. Every worship room's mural, I'd heard, depicted him in a different way. This one, I felt a special connection to. Even Clarice fell silent in the back of my mind.

I bowed my head and cleared my throat. "Oh, goodness. Ahaha. Dear Sunnie, Crown Prince of Water as we know it to be. Erm… I'm Julius Anti-Lunifly. I… I suppose it's been some time since I've spoken to you. In fact, I've never, um, actually visited your Temple before. It's difficult for Anti-Fairies since your Temple is owned by Fairies and stands in the centre of their capital city, and I was also locked away in a genie's lamp for over 68,000 years, although that's a story for another day, ahahaha…" My eyelids squeezed. "It is rather exquisite in here, isn't it?"

All was quiet in the prayer room around me. It wasn't very large, and the cold pressing around me reminded me of Anti-Fairy World. I licked my teeth. "Sunnie, old chap? I came here seeking guidance. High Count Anti-Bryndin has asked me to choose a  _job_  to spend my time in, and I haven't the foggiest which one to select, or how I would go about finding it. And, do I truly even want to form a bachelor colony of my own? It's foolish, isn't it? Leave Mona, Mum, and the Castle again? So soon after my return home? I need your advice."

I hunkered in the Temple for a long time, waiting for an answer that never came. Ashley had warned me not to expect an answer from Sunnie lest I come away disappointed, but I believe it's impossible not to hope. And I was a hoper.

"Just a feeling, or a whisper," I softly pleaded through a yawn. Alas, though I strained my brain, my thoughts remained muddled regarding the idea of 'jobs.'

When my time in the Temple was finished, I walked back to the street to wait for Jorgen and Binky to return. Clarice was more than delighted that I could taste fresh air on my lips again. After a few minutes spent pacing, it dawned on me that for now, I actually had all the freedom I desired. Technically it was illegal for me to wander Fairy World on my own, but then again…

I drew my wand and studied it for a moment. Hmm… Now that I was on this side of the Barrier, perhaps I could…

I gave my wand an experimental wave, and found myself dropped in a small brown Fairy town a moment later. Novakiin. Ambrosine had to be around here somewhere.

No one was in the streets. My  _poof_  had left my unsteady juvenile magic slightly drained, so I chose to fly along until I stumbled across a shiny square building that had the name Wish Fixers printed across its sign. I ducked in, ensuring my wand was sheathed and my hands were visible so everyone could see I intended no harm.

Ambrosine was just locking up his room with a simple hex when I arrived. He sensed my coming and shot me a surprised look while I was still in the hallway. Flying more quickly, I brought my hands together in a pleading way.

"Oh, thank smoke I caught you, old sport. You see, I've just come from the Water Temple. I tried praying there for answers, but I didn't hear a reply from Sunnie. I hoped perhaps that you could give me some advice instead."

He glanced at the ancient, snoozing secretary fairy behind a tall nearby desk, then turned to me again. "Julius? Are your escorts outside?"

"Of course. Jorgen von Strangle and Binky Abdul. You can ask them next time you see them." It technically wasn't a lie. After all, those two had escorted me here, and they were not inside the Wish Fixers building.

Ambrosine relented. Sheathing his wand, he said, "I suppose I can spare a quick moment."

I bobbed my head. "My betrothed has asked me to lead a bachelor colony for a few decades in order to prove myself a leader. But I'm not- I'm really not. Some people don't believe me when I say it, because I'm an Anti-Fairy and ought to love crowds, but I'm so socially anxious around people, Ambrosine. Even my roommates at the school I've been attending. Oh, how I hate the feeling of eyes on me when I'm not doing anything noteworthy! It's interesting. I feel that I could give a speech if I were asked to, provided it was short, and having so many people watching me wouldn't bother me then. They're  _supposed_  to watch me when I speak, and I'd feel anxious if they weren't. But when there isn't a reason for anyone to focus on me in particular, such as during the Tarrow dance Mona and I do each New Year when we're on the floor among fifty other couples, I just loathe every second of it. It's physically painful with a squeeze in my chest. I'm so nervous about this bachelor colony thing. What if I mess up? What if I lead them to a place they don't like? What if they all hate me? Oh yes, and before I even form a bachelor colony, Anti-Bryndin has asked me to take on a job, but I don't know where I might find one or where I can begin. What if I can't find one? Or worse, what if I win myself a high position, and I humiliate myself and ruin everything?"

He waited until I had finished my explanation, nodding along every once in a while. When I stuttered to my end, he said, "Your anxiety results from your  _divus_  displacement disorder. The Fairy in you feels uncomfortable in large crowds. Anti-Fairies are creatures who belong in large colonies, but Fairies are biologically programmed to live in small family units with plenty of personal space."

When he mentioned my alleged disorder, my thoughts popped back to Clarice. If my mind was entangled with hers, it was very possible that not just some, but  _all_  of my anxious feelings belonged to her instead of me. My body hosted two spirits, but my bad thoughts only came because Clarice thought them up. I was still friendly, polite Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly underneath them, just the way I intended to be. And the Julius in me didn't want to be socially anxious. This was Clarice's fault. Everything wrong with me was because of her. Of course. I myself was blameless.

And was that ever a relief!

"Is there anything you can do to help me?" I asked Ambrosine. "Perhaps prescribe me some medicine? I've been taking those bottled donor pheromones you sent us every other day, just as you've asked." At least, when I remembered to. They were easy to forget, and I'd fallen into the habit of lying to Anti-Elina if she asked if I had taken them and I really hadn't.

Ambrosine thought for a moment. He pressed the bridge of his glasses. "You said you wanted a job, didn't you?"

"Oh, I'd love one! Provided, of course, I don't ever have to be put on the spot and no one ever expects more of me than I'm capable of giving. And of course, it must be one I can balance with my schooling." Was he about to offer me a position at Wish Fixers? I wouldn't mind visiting Fairy World every day. Although Novakiin was small and dull and not nearly as impressive or colourful as Faeheim, I found it very clean and a lovely place to be.

"Mm. I have a few Anti-Fairy clients besides yourself. Without validating client confidentiality, I  _can_  tell you that you might be interested in visiting the Eros Nest sooner rather than later. A spot in their show recently opened up, and the last I heard, it still hadn't been filled."

"A show?" I asked curiously.

"There are dances on the ice skating rink to celebrate Anti-Fairy culture. Very popular at this time of year. The Anti-Fairies who live at the Nest perform in it, if they want to, but with the recent injuries and how ragged those performers have been running themselves in order to keep on schedule, you might be lucky enough to snag a role."

I winced at the word  _lucky_. "Well, I'm not sure I'm up for dancing, and particularly not on ice, with skates and blades and all… but I suppose I could ask if I might do a little work behind the scenes. You know, rearranging sets and running water ladles around. Perhaps I could even draw a few of the backdrops myself. I've become quite the artist in recent centuries, you know what I mean?" I considered the option from a few different angles. Then I nodded. "The nature spirits help those who help themselves. Perhaps Sunnie didn't want to give me a direct answer to my plea in the Temple, because he wished I'd put forth the effort into coming here instead in order to prove that I was serious. I suppose I could give it a try."

Ambrosine nodded too. "And as for your anxiety, I want you to take the tram to the Barrier by yourself. And, if you do choose to visit the Eros Nest, take that one all on your own as well."

My stomach tanked. "By myself? Oh… No, I can't do that. What if Jorgen and Binky or the Keepers don't allow it?"

"I'm a therapist. I can sign you a special tram travel pass valid for a month."

No. No. Alone? Was he sure? I stammered, "But- but I've never even ridden a tram before! We don't have trams in Anti-Fairy World, so there's never really been a need. And riding from here to the Barrier will take perhaps eleven hours, at the absolute  _least._ "

"By yourself," Ambrosine insisted. "No magic. No family members. No friends. Just you, your little car, and the occasional strangers who get on and off at stops every now and again. I'll give you the pass, and I want you to ride back and forth across the cloudlands every day you possibly can for a month. That will help your anxiety. Then come and see me again."

I swallowed. "I really don't know about this…" Shouldn't he come with me the first few times? Or at least be waiting for me on the other side?

And yet, I found myself at the tram station, buying a ticket for the blue tram. I was the first one in the car. It wasn't very large, only fit for holding four or five travellers. The wooden benches were padded with scratchy fabric. I tucked myself into a corner, facing opposite the direction the tram would move. I pulled my knees up to my chest, and gazed quietly through the window glass. There I sat, a silent ball of fur and clothing.

I hoped desperately that I wouldn't regret this. Ambrosine had given me a special orange card, which I wore on a tinkling chain around my neck. I shouldn't, then, be stressing so much over what the Keepers might do to me if they caught me in Fairy World without an escort. Or what Jorgen and his mother, Adelinda von Strangle, might say to me upon hearing that I had technically disobeyed the Keeper of Da Rules in training and gone wandering by myself. Or over the fact that I had never taken the tram in the company of another person before, let alone by myself. Anti-Fairy World was a long ways away. Would the cable even hold that long? What if it snapped? My wings wouldn't be of any help were I to plunge down, entrapped in a box. Would I need to disembark at a certain station and switch to a tram route of a different colour? What if I fell asleep and missed my stop? What if some cruel fairy joined me in my car, and then taunted and insulted me because I was an Anti-Fairy? What if the tram lost its way? What if it stopped moving? What if I changed my mind and wanted to dive out? What if, what if, what  _if._

Panic lit my chest when my swinging tram car began to slow. I craned my neck and searched for the station welcome sign. Mistleville. What? Was that supposed to be on my way to the Divide Gate? Wasn't it too far east? Had I boarded the wrong line? I swallowed. When the tram car stopped rocking on its cable, the door slid open. Two fairies stepped inside- one old enough to be my father, and one who was still just a pup. Er, a nymph. Hastily, I turned away from them without studying their faces or giving them the chance to examine mine any further, and fixed my attention on the world beyond the window. I suppose it didn't do much good, since although I had disguised myself in my thick red coat and black gloves, and stuffed my ears beneath my hood, they were surely able to detect traces of my magic in the energy field. Theirs sounded rough and scratchy, like two wooden blocks scraping together in an endless loop. At first it was annoying, but I managed to tune it out soon enough. Such was ever the Anti-Fairy way.

Shame I couldn't free my anxious self from the adult fairy's eyes, however. I knew he was watching me, his tiny nymph sleeping on his large stomach, stiff and still as a stack of scrolls. He didn't speak to me, and I didn't speak to him. Apart from the crackle and spark of the energy field, and the gentle creak of the tram car speeding along its cable, the nymph's sleepy wing rustles were all I could hear.

At one stop nearly halfway to the Barrier, a green-skinned púca entered our car. Since the larger fairy across from me was lying down and taking up all the space on the other bench, the púca sat beside me. A pink-haired gnome followed him in, and presented us all with our choices of complimentary evening travel meal. We accepted the offer, me still trying desperately to keep my blue face downturned despite my travel pass. The fairy lying on the bench across from me woke up the sleeping nymph, who jolted with a small snort. "Try some lidérc," he coaxed, spearing a bite on a fork for the child to try. "Tram food is always delicious. It's plain and majorly tasteless. One bite. It contains no feathers to tickle your throat. See? Go on. Do it."

The nymph yawned. He didn't rub his eyes, but lay very still. "I want acorn muffins."

The larger fairy pushed the bite of roasted bird into the child's little mouth. His wide shoulders tensed when the tram began to move, and he kept his eyes downcast, away from the window. Always away from the window. "That's a crying shame. I don't have any of those. You're going to have to deal."

"Why can't we  _poof_  up food that I will actually like?"

"Because the Fairies who run the tram shut down all the loose magic in the area millennia ago. They don't want anyone teleporting into the tram without paying. Extra weight could break the cable." He turned to me as I gazed outside and sipped my soup from a bowl. "See? Look at that drake. He's eating his food. He likes it."

I refused to glance up. Beneath the hood of my red coat, I pressed my ears more tightly against my skull. Perhaps it wasn't the most perfect of disguises, but it soothed my unease just enough to be effective. I ate quietly and tried my hardest to look as though I wasn't a threat.

"Is that a therapy border pass from Wish Fixers?" the fairy asked abruptly, gesturing with a dull wave towards the orange card around my neck. I mumbled affirmative, and kept my face turned away.

When the landmark signs outside the window notified us that Patio World was just ahead, the fairy tugged on the white rope that stretched around the upper portion of the car. The tram slowed to a stop at the next station. The doors parted. Both fairies jumped off, still licking bird breasts from their fingers. My muscles ached from cringing, but I was even more on edge now that I was left alone with just the strange púca beside me.

"He's going to sacrifice his firstborn to Mother Nature and Father Time," the púca said to me, peering after them as the tram door slid shut again. It was growing late. I yawned despite myself and risked a glance over at him.

"Hm?"

He was up on his knees now, intently focused on the pair walking away. "The fairy who just got out here. He's going to Patio World's glass shrine."

"Glass shrine? Oh. The one the Fairies set up to honour Mother Nature and Father Time, since their actual Temples are all the way up in the High Kingdom under Refract ownership?"

The púca nodded. He didn't turn away. "It's the sacrificial shrine. He's going to sacrifice that little drake."

"Pardon?"

"Mmhm. It's an old custom, but I thought no one really tried it anymore. Especially not fairies. Not after the mandate. In turning over his firstborn's life, he hopes to call upon Mother Nature and Father Time to change his past or alter his future."

That all sounded like rubbish to me, because what should Mother Nature and Father Time want with a load of sacrificed firstborn souls? I'd never heard any stories about this before, even in all my years of study. But I was already drifting into sleep. "His son, you say?" I mumbled. "Most peculiar. There was supposed to be a law preventing the birth of fairy babies, you know what I mean? I really didn't think there were any intact fairy drakes left…"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A genie must have two free parents in order to be born a free genie themselves. Liloei's daughter Lohai is not yet free, and Anti-Cosmo is reluctant to risk the same trick with the Alien now that he's in a calmer frame of mind. Being a bound genie, Lohai has cuffs on her wrists and is bound to certain rules when it comes to moving between "lamps".
> 
> A genie who isn't free is known as en lamp (properly), or between masters (colloquially).


	17. Lady Luck On Ice

_In which Julius visits an old friend of his father, then witnesses a musical history of Anti-Fairies performed at the Eros Nest in the Summer of the White Sun_

* * *

 "I need a vacation," I told Lohai, plopping several scrolls down on my desk.

The little genie peered up at me from her warm nest of coals and blackened straw in the corner of her bin. "Why is that, Papa Julius?"

"Why? I'll tell you why." I dropped into my desk chair and spun around to face her. In doing so, I pulled one leg up over the other and leaned forward. "Because every day, I feel I'm constantly being pulled in three different directions. Allow me to share with you my to-do list for the long term: First off, dear Mona has asked me to prepare to lead a bachelor colony by the time I become a legal adult at the age of 150,000. But before that even becomes a possibility, Anti-Bryndin has tasked me to find a job in order to experience a hint of independence. Ambrosine suggested I try the Eros Nest for work, and so I shall. On top of that, have you noticed that I am one of despicably few Anti-Fairies in my cohort who don't have the slightest clue who I may be reincarnated from? I mean, by this point in their lives, most of the others are at least aware if they are their soul's first incarnation upon this world and never had any previous lives at all. Not to mention, there remains the matter of my research regarding the Anti-Fairy reproductive system, which I of course wish to complete and put into action as soon as possible, to no avail as of yet. And, I'm now on break from school. Yes." I nodded with a sharp jerk of my head. "I need a vacation."

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere I've always wanted to go, yet never tried." I unrolled one of the scrolls and showed her a crude map of the Hy-Brasilian half of the Barrenglades. "The base of Dragondrool Mountain. A bloke by the name of Anti-Fergus lives there, or at least he did long ago. Strange drake, with fur as green as the lushest grass instead of the blue one would expect. Anti-Fergus was a dear friend of my father's before I was born, a very long time ago. Since Mona will be leaving the Castle to stay with her mum Anti-Dixie's colony for a year, I thought I would at last get off my tush and pay a visit down to Plane 4, wot?"

Lohai sat up. "May I come too, Papa?"

I smiled at her enthusiasm, her little pink tail swishing back and forth. Her purple hair was dusky and dull, desperately in need of a wash. I rolled the map up again. "Not this time, I'm afraid. There shan't be anywhere to let you out of your travel lamp, and you'll be terribly bored listening to us old geezers prattle on. But, I shall bring you back a charming souvenir. I promise."

"Please?" Lohai begged, folding her hands together. I had always been immune to pleading eyes, and when I saw her attempting the trick, I crossed my arms and scowled.

"Lohai, I do mean it. I'm visiting Anti-Fergus for no longer than an hour or two, and then I'll be off to the Eros Nest immediately. For work, not pleasure. If you come along, there will be nothing at all for you to do."

"There isn't exactly anything at all for me to do here either," she said, gesturing around my study to prove my point. "I desire a vacation too."

I spent a moment more considering her request, and then shrugged. "All right. I'll bring you along. But you must remain on your best behaviour. Don't forget, I did warn you."

"I won't make a peep, Papa Julius."

So I fetched her special soda bottle, its outside decorated with peeling stickers of unicorns and fruit. This, I dropped into her bin. Its surface rippled, but its size didn't change- leaving her, for the moment, plenty small enough to slip down its neck and disappear. I had to admit, I was frankly relieved that Lohai would be accompanying me. True, her powers were limited while confined inside a lamp. In fact, she could do nothing at all that would affect my world. It was doubtful I'd be able to hear much of her conversation from in there, especially with her bottle in my travel pack, but I did truly value her companionship. After all, she was Liloei's daughter, and after so many years, I cared for her dearly. Lohai was growing older every day, but she would forever be my baby candle stub. If I brought her along on my vacation to ensure she received proper care, and Mona was away, then I really had no reason to return to the Castle until I wanted to. It wasn't a bad way to live.

And so, she and I set out. I made several attempts at  _poof_ ing where I wanted to go, although since I was unfamiliar with the area, I wasn't sure whether I was close to my destination or too far away. Genie magic could have unpredictable effects, even when the genie in question remained bottled up.

Nonetheless, two hours after our departure from the Blue Castle, I found myself flying along the black, rocky landscape of the Barrenglades until I came across a crooked, pink house not far from the base of Dragondrool Mountain, just as I had suspected. It took a few circles before I actually found it, because its roof was black and blended in with the branches of the bare trees. In fact, I had to find it with my eyes, not my echolocation. The grey paint of the walls was pale and chipped, revealing the pink wood of the chesberry trees beneath. A battered deck wrapped around the edges. I landed carefully before a door that clung on with only one hinge, wishing now that I'd brought socks and shoes. Too many splinters. The sight of so much magical wood made me uneasy deep in my gut.

I wondered why Anti-Fergus didn't simply fix the place up with a wave of his wand. Could it be the monetary expenses? In Fairy World, the filtered, usable magic that could be picked up by a wand was a resource one traded money to obtain, although prices were rather loose and varied by the individual, without a standard, organised system to tie it all together. Anti-Fairy World was different. Money rarely passed through the hands of the individual, held instead only by a colony's creche father or queen. It was the duty of the creche father to budget for the needs of his colony as a whole, and this was one reason Anti-Bryndin wished for me to gain an understanding of money before he sent me into the world to lead a bachelor colony on my own. And poor Anti-Fergus didn't seem to live in a colony at all.

"Top of the morning to you, Drake Anti-Fergus," I called through the broken door. Like his home, it was made from wood, so I didn't dare knock. Shuffling sounds echoed back to me. A figure arrived in the doorway.

Anti-Fergus looked exactly like the drawings my father had done of him all those millennia ago. He was a large man- tall and topped with spikes of yellow hair, his belly very wide around the middle. His colours were incredible, like nothing I had ever seen before. His fur grew thick and rough in a natural shade of mossy green. Freckled, with black fur in the infamous moustache and goatee pattern that confirmed Fairy-Fergus was a gyne. He wore a bright teal shirt too small for his bulging stomach, so it didn't entirely cover the vertical slit that was his pouch. My knees trembled as I gazed up at him, because I swear each of his arms was twice as thick as my spindly limbs. He could have clocked me out cold simply by batting my ear.

But the grandest shock of all?

I only barely managed to keep my mouth from falling open. Anti-Fergus had  _red_  eyes. Not lavender. I mean, sure, on some level I realised that if Anti-Fergus lived in the slums of the Barrenglades, he couldn't possibly be considered a noble. And of course, only nobles were permitted to carry the coloured eyes granted by the iris virus, or at least in theory. So if he and my father really were a couple long ago, it was logical that they may have taken certain precautions to prevent Anti-Robin from transferring it. But I was caught off guard nonetheless. I'd really thought that surely, he and my father wouldn't have bothered with…

Oh, never mind.

"I'm Julius Anti-Lunifly," I said when I saw him. I straightened my wings, and spread my arms. "And truly, I'd call myself your greatest admirer!"

Anti-Fergus looked at me for another few beats, then slammed the broken door shut.

"No, it's true!" I ran along the deck to the nearest window and peered between the bars. The sitting room inside was chaos, with bright green chairs overturned and large vegetables strewn across the sofa. Every wall was painted at least ten different colours. Red and black pillows covered the floor. "Anti-Fergus, listen to me! My father is Anti-Robin Anti-Cosma. Anti-Robin Jr. is my brother. I've read so much about you."

The door opened again. I spun around to see Anti-Fergus stomping towards me. This time, he had his star-shooter cocked against his shoulder and loaded to fire. I flared my wings and leaped onto the deck railing, scooting backwards as he kept ploughing forward.

"Who else knows where I live?" he snarled.

"Wha- I haven't told!"

"You gotta swear you won't squeal a word about me ta anyone." He glared through the scope attached to the star-shooter's top. "I don't want no one dragging me into some lab like a creature to dissect."

His accent was thick, one of the heaviest and roughest I'd ever heard. I couldn't discern its origins exactly, but there was a certain upward inflection on his "to"s, a stretching "ee" to his "you"s, and some of his other words ran gruffly together.

"I'm on your side, Anti-Fergus, I promise! I only came here because… well… because I really hoped you might tell me about my father." I shielded my face with my hands, pleading that he wouldn't fire his weapon at such close range. A shooting star to the chest would leave me smarting for a week  _after_  regeneration. "I never knew him, you know. He died when I was only two years old. I- I just want to talk to you."

Anti-Fergus stared at me. I stared at him, still crouched on the railing with my wings spread for take-off. Then he grunted, spit a glob of saliva on the deck, and lowered the star-shooter. Without saying anything else, he turned his back and waddled towards the door. His wings hunkered behind him, enormous and pale brown. Quietly, I slipped from the rail and followed him inside. The door creaked horrendously when I stepped over it.  _Over_  is the correct word. It leaned against its frame like a bird with a broken wing.

Anti-Fergus allowed me into his kitchen, tossing his star-shooter against the table. It thunked and skidded, almost falling from the other side. If it had, it would have landed in one of several three-legged chairs. Every part of the room - Scratch that; every part of the  _house_  that I could see - was in blatant disarray.

"Your place is certainly cosy," I said anyway. "It's so musty at the Castle sometimes that I often find myself longing for a quaint, quiet home in the woods such as this one."

He stopped walking and pointed a chipped, broken claw at the lopsided dining table. "Tea."

Half a dozen teacups sat in a circle around a teapot and several baskets of overcooked beetle chip cookies. Each of the teacups was filled, although there didn't seem to be anyone else around besides Anti-Fergus and myself. I walked over and took a seat in a chair that I was quite certain would snap beneath me. I glanced at the ceiling, but there were no roosts above the table, and no anti-gravity platters that I could see.

Anti-Fergus dropped into the chair across from me. It creaked, but none of its legs broke. He took one of the teacups by its handle and downed its contents in a single gulp.

"Your Anti-Robin's son," he said when he finished, not phrasing it as a question.

"I am. His youngest one of two. I'm Julius, year of Water. I've been attending school at Frederick Shinesworth as of late."

Anti-Fergus nodded and reached for another teacup. Awkwardly, I took a sip. The tea was cold and rather flavourless, but I stomached it politely as an unexpected guest should.

"I've heard your zodiac is Breath, Anti-Fergus. Year of the Green Bat."

"Mmhm."

Another sip. "And… the totem animal of the Anti-Whimsifinado line has always been the wild hog. His Glory Twryth, as I recall. Is that right?"

"Mmhm."

I eyed the teacup in my hands with pain. "Were you good friends with my father, Anti-Fergus?"

He glanced up at me, but only briefly. "Yep. He was a good fellow. Real good cook, too."

"Quite. I suppose you miss him a good deal."

"S'pose I do."

I tipped my head to one side, still clutching my cup since it didn't have a saucer and I didn't wish to be rude by setting it down bare-bottomed. "Did my father ever mention his goals for reincarnation? About if he wanted to make an appeal to the spirits for animal life sooner rather than later, or whether he planned to wait until his progeny arrived on Plane 23 first?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Anti-Fergus murmured around the edge of the cup. "Anti-Robin was awful secretive. Didn't ask for much. Just, he wanted that if'n he ever passed before I did, I'd try to help out his little kids. Didn't know if his youngest was a dame or a drake." Anti-Fergus examined me, as though he wasn't sure whether he should confide the next bit to my young ears. With some reluctance, he added, "He left some money. I had your brother take it to the Blue Castle once, just after your pa died."

"Then you were the anonymous donor who helped pay my way into Spellementary School, all those years ago." A bit of guilt welled up in my throat as I reflected on all the years of education I'd never had the opportunity to take. I tilted my head. "Anti-Robin did so love to draw you, you know. I've spent decades - nay, centuries! - studying the notes he took on you."

Anti-Fergus chose not to reply. Creasing my forehead, I tried again.

"Well, if you were to pick the most memorable thing about my father, what do you imagine it might be?"

Again, I thought at first that he wasn't going to answer me. But after a moment, he said, "He always wished he could study at the Fairy Academy someday. Hardest worker I ever did know, but he just didn't have the right stuff to make it in."

"Poor Anti-Robin. I understand completely. Why, I myself intend to leave my mark upon this world before my time in this incarnation reaches its end. I'd rather be remembered for my brains than my dashing good looks, you know what I mean? Not to mention my delightful sense of humour, ahahaha."

"Why'd you come here, Julius?" he demanded, and I realised (too late!) how my "looks" comment could have been interpreted. I squeaked.

"Erm. Well…" Pressing down my ears, I adjusted my travelling satchel in my lap. "A few reasons. Mostly because I terribly needed to get some fresh air, and I thought perhaps you could tell me about my father, and what he was like."

Anti-Fergus studied me, his eyes like coals, until I dropped my gaze to the table. "Nah," he said. "That's not really why you came."

"Really? Why do you say that?"

"Because you just told me you studied Anti-Robin's notes and doodles for centuries on end. If you were just looking for dirt on your daddy, you'd have got up and come to see me a whole lot sooner."

My silence, I suppose, was all the answer he needed. The threads of loyalty I held for my father wavered by a small amount. Anti-Fergus nodded at me and leaned back in his chair.

"I ain't really the smartest of my counterparts, but I do know a thing or two when it comes to people and what they want."

I sighed, then raised my head. "All right, so I'll play right into your hands then, hm? In all honesty, there is something else I came to see you for. Anti-Fergus, have you ever heard of  _divus_  displacement disorder? It's a condition of the mind, and everyone says my father had it. But he never made any mention of it in his journals. It has a different name in Anti-Fairy World. Well, not really a  _name_ , but… Anti-Fairies know it as a condition that occurs when a nature spirit entangles with the mind of an Anti-Fairy child during birth, while the child is only lifesmoke."

"Really…" A suspicious note crept into Anti-Fergus' voice. "And what happens to an Anti who's gone and got a nature spirit living up inside his brain?"

"Well, it depends on the type of nature spirit, of course. For instance, I… Well, I've been told that I swing between energetic highs and emotional lows. The camarilla believe my mind tangled with that of a lightning spirit when I was born."

Anti-Fergus sipped his tea. "That's stupid."

His words thudded into my skull. I flattened my ears and glanced up in surprise. But Anti-Fergus only drank his tea for a moment in silence.

"It's a family thing, not a spirit thing," he said at last. "Your pa and I talked once or twice about it, when he was expecting you, I s'pose."

"Did you really? Oh! Do you mean, he came right here to this very house during that time when…" I made a sideways line in the air with my finger, back and forth. "Those thirteen days when he carried me, before he placed me in my mother's pouch?"

"Yep. Sat right in that very chair." Anti-Fergus frowned. "Met your mum once too. Nasty dame, really. Not quite right in the head, though, and that's why I say it's a family thing. She gets fuzzed-up thoughts that don't make sense, and she hears voices. Hateful voices. If you've got something different in your lid, it came from her, not from him. Ain't got nothing to do with spirits. Just bodies and babies and blood."

"Oh. Oh." I puzzled over this new information, reluctant to accept it but unable to find a clear reason Anti-Fergus would lie to me. Not all Anti-Fairies believed in the influence of the nature spirits in our everyday lives, and it seemed that Anti-Fergus might be one of them. I believed in their powers still, but I did find myself wondering… could Anti-Fergus be right on at least this one point? Had I perhaps inherited my mother's illness in the same way I had inherited my father's scruffy blue hair? Might the spirits influence some aspects of nature, but leave others to the science of reproduction and genetics to figure out?

Hmm. What a thought. A mother who allegedly heard voices whispering in her ears, and a son whose energy ranged between boundless and non-existent in an endless cycle. Conditions caused by the mortal world and random chance… and not by the spirits or fate at all. Well, well, well. Now there's a thought.

Anti-Fergus peered at me over the rim of his cup. He tilted his head, his enormous ears swiping as he did. "Your brother ain't been right in the head either as of late. Thought it was just a passing fever, 'til it never passed. Wonder if your little star sickness could be the reason why."

My forehead ruffled. "What do you mean?"

"Gonna turn out just like his mother, that one. Hears the threads of karmic weaves and the secret thoughts of souls in a way he ain't really s'posed to. I always said it ran in families. Shame no one ever listens to the fellow on the outskirts down here."

Icy knives ran across my blood. I lowered my ears, wondering when the last time he saw my brother was. Even though I hadn't been afflicted with extreme periods of energy for the last several centuries, I understood the difficulties of living with a condition that affected your mind and your mood. Anti-Robin didn't deserve that burden on top of everything else he dealt with. My father's death, my mother's abuses, his ridiculous stutter… me.

Struggling a bit with my words, I said, "You know, your counterpart's father, Ambrosine Whimsifinado, is a therapist who runs a business called Wish Fixers. I've met him before. He's never believed in the presence of a lightning spirit in my head either. Only, he also told me I'm a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body. And sometimes, I wonder if he's right."

Anti-Fergus hesitated, clutching his teacup. "Well, I don't know nothing about real therapy studies, but you can talk to me if it makes you feel better."

"It's just…" I rubbed my eye. "There is a reason, you know, that I am curious about my father's reincarnation plans, if he had any. I wonder if he learned of his previous incarnations, if there were any. I'd like to know whether there's any possibility he may reincarnate into one of mine or my brother's descendants if the opportunity arises in the future. Anti-Buster's told me Anti-Robin was born in the Breath year, you know. But in addition to learning about my father's future, I'm interested in learning of my own past. I don't suppose Anti-Robin left a copy of his family tree around here, did he?" When Anti-Fergus slowly shook his head, I sighed. "Yes, you were quite right. I didn't come here only to learn my father's personality. I'd like to learn about my Water year ancestors in case I might be able to discover which of them, if any, reincarnated into me. I know I must be a reincarnation in this life rather than a new soul to this world; I'm sure of it. Anti-Fairies are supposed to inherit strong memories and even physical traits from their past lives sometimes. I often wonder if I have such memories, but then again, some of the ones I do have really don't make sense."

"Huh."

"Yes. I have a fear of crowds, when I really shouldn't, considering we Anti-Fairies are such social creatures. I'm afraid they're all staring at me, everyone is, and whispering behind my back. I feel as though I don't really belong here. And this fear I have seems as though it's tied specifically to what I look like, and how I move. I mean, when I was first learning how to manage umbrae and demons, I didn't want to hurt them. Can you imagine that?" I let out a bitter laugh. "I didn't want to hurt an umbra, even knowing how dangerous they become if left to fester unchecked! Doesn't that hesitation sound as though it came from a Fairy to you?"

Anti-Fergus lifted his wings. "Perhaps that could be something… I don't really know."

I squinted up at him. "And I've been obsessed my entire life with fathering my own biological children. Why does that matter so much to me when there are so many pups out there who are abandoned as soon as they are born? Wouldn't only a Fairy care this much about whether their children are really their own, seeing as Fairies are the only ones who could potentially have affairs and illegitimate offspring? Anti-Fergus, I can't help but wonder if Ambrosine is right. Maybe I never had any previous lives at all, and I really did come into this world with a little more Fairy than Anti-Fairy in me after I absorbed Fairy-Cosmo's core when I was only lifesmoke."

Again, Anti-Fergus said nothing at first. He turned his cup around in his hands. "I don't know. I think that maybe you're just worrying a lot over nothing. You are who you are. You're a special person. You get to be alive. Why not enjoy it? Don't let anyone else decide how much you should like your life. Thinking too much seems like it's making you unhappy."

"I suppose that's true…" I shrugged. Maybe Liloei was right to hold her beliefs in total reincarnation. Perhaps it was possible that I wasn't an Anti-Fairy at all, but not a Fairy either. I could be a reincarnated genie. Finally, I decided to change the subject. "All right, that's plenty about me for now. What about you? Can you tell me about what it was like, being my father's lover?"

For the first time, his moustache twitched with laughter. He didn't look up, but he sort of chuckled with an exhale of breath through his nose. "Me and Anti-Robin? Heh heh. We was never a pair."

I walked my fingers along the table. "So, you were just my father's weekend squeeze, then?"

Anti-Fergus looked up at me, amusement sparking in his crimson eyes. "We was friends. Nothing but friends. Never went further'n us both exchanging favours." So saying, he pulled on the end of his long green tongue, dragging it all the way from his mouth so that I might see the glimmering emerald stud embedded near the back.

"What? I beg your pardon?  _Just_  friends?" My eight-year-old self never would have believed it. In fact, even now my forehead creased at the very thought. What of all my father's notes? What of all his drawings? The days, months, and years they'd spent together? My father's journal, and the way he spoke about learning to cook so he could teach Anti-Fergus too? I threw my arms forward. "What do you mean, 'Just friends?' What, instead of secret husbands? How could that be? You were perfect for each other!"

"And we were." Anti-Fergus poured another cup of tea despite the other full cups on the table and handed this one to me. "We were  _best_  friends. Didn't need no kisses to tell us that. The piercings was all for ceremony. We liked talking across the table, just like you and me now."

"But…" I clamped my claws into my skull, sinking down onto the table top. "No. No, no, no! That doesn't make sense! Ceremonial piercings don't count! You mean to tell me that you never kissed his lips even  _once?_  Never did any more than bundle and stroke together? So you never sang together? Nothing at all? What, then? Why, doesn't it  _bother_  you that you missed so much?"

Tears threatened the backs of my eyes. So my father really hadn't lived a happy life at all? He'd only had my mother, and no one else to turn to for love? For if he didn't love Anti-Fergus, whom he spoke of with such praise and kindness in his writing, then I truly couldn't imagine him loving anyone else at all. I swallowed. "D-doesn't it bother you that you didn't make that connection with my father before he died?"

Anti-Fergus shrugged his wings. "Nah, don't bother me at all, really. For one thing, your pa and I both only liked damsels."

I blinked at this backhanded slap in the face of their caring friendship (which clearly wasn't as caring and friendly as I had been led to believe). I blinked again. Then I sat up. "What do you mean, you only like damsels?"

Only like damsels?  _Only like damsels?_  What, exactly, did he mean by that? Did he intend to convince me it's actually possible for a person to fawn over a sweet dame with a pretty face and entirely ignore the deliciously muscular hunk of drake sitting beside them at the supper table, simply because his soul had been born a drake in this incarnation? Hm. Privately, I found that the strangest statement I'd heard since stepping into his home. Possibly the strangest statement I'd heard in years.

Swishing the last of the tea in the bottom of his cup, he said, "I just don't get excited about drakes like I get excited about damsels. Falling in love with damsels is easy. Falling in love with a drake would be hard. That's just how it is for me. I'll sing for a damsel on our way to roost together, but I ain't never wanted to sing a cuddly song to a drake." He flashed the tongue stud one final time. "Exchanging strokes with Anti-Robin was enough. I'm darn sure I'd say he were my best friend."

"But stroke exchanges are a platonic ceremony! It doesn't count if your lips don't touch- everyone knows that. Anti-Robin was  _perfect_  for you! If someone is perfect for you, why would it  _matter_  whether they're a drake or a damsel?" I flung my arms into the air. "That's why it's called being perfect for each other, you clueless oaf! Limited thinking such as that will only lead to denying yourself the possibility of happiness! Why, that's like saying a Fairy and an Anti-Fairy can't fall in love if their love is truly true!" When he looked at me without answering, I sighed and let my hands fall. "You don't make a lot of sense, Anti-Fergus."

He chuckled and set the teacup down. "Well, one of us has got to."

"Hmm." I squinted at him, trying (and failing miserably) to imagine a life of automatically turning up my nose at any drake who chose to flirt with me. It was a bizarre thought. You know, I'd always promised myself that Mona would be the first Anti-Fairy I gave myself to intimately, but I'd mooned over Anti-Kanin ever since he still answered to Caden in public, and I planned to see that go farther than bundling and stroke exchanges one day.  _Only like damsels-_  Ha! What a way to live! I wrinkled my nose. "Well. Thank you for talking to me. And thank you for teaching me how to brew tea. I'm not sure when I'll be able to visit again, but I'd certainly like to. Are you alone here now?"

"Nah. Not alone. I've got Ennet and my sweet Anti-Kalysta… Ah, here she comes out now."

A sudden collection of clacking sounds demanded my attention. I swung my head towards the far side of the dining room, where a damsel was just emerging from behind a beaded curtain that must lead to the kitchen. My eyes widened at the sight of her black and red wings.

Anti-Kalysta, as it turned out, was an anti-will o' the wisp with a basket of cookies in her hands. She was blue like me, not green like Anti-Fergus was at all. Her ears were small and rounded, and not particularly flexible. Approximately a fourth of her light hair was braided, but not at all well. She wore a dark blue dress…

… that actually covered her body… modestly?

I sat in my chair, rigid. Speechless. The damsel before me didn't at all match my mental image of a mothdame, with the sleeveless translucent shirts and all the beads, and that made me enormously uncomfortable. Anti-will o' the wisps were supposed to dress in scanty outfits because they wanted to. Mothdames were always free ladies because Tarrow had led their primary counterparts to be alluring temptresses. It was simply in their nature. It was their fate. Yet here before me was a mothdame who dressed in full clothing, a-as though she weren't driven by hormones at all. Which meant that  _other_  mothdames might not be driven by hormones at all either, and  _that_  wasn't a thought I was willing to face just yet. It simply didn't sit right in my stomach. My mind swirled with nagging confusion.

So I decided that Anti-Kalysta was a rare exception to the mothdame stereotype of the free lady, and ignored her completely. It wasn't hard, considering that my focus was immediately snatched up by the young drake who came in behind her. Blue fur, scruffy blue hair, and emerald eyes. Oh yes. But no  _canetis_  rings. Not anymore.

"Oh," I said when I saw him. It was the only thing I could say. I think I was supposed to feel something at the sudden sight of my brother. I felt nothing. Nothing at all. At least, not for a few seconds. I rose to my wings, setting the teacup down. Then the bitterness welled up inside my chest, and behind my eyes in the form of tears. All this time, Augustus… Anti-Robin… He'd simply been living here? Or passing through the area from time to time, if nothing else.

Then the emotions hit. All my pride flew out the window, as did my uncertainties about his mental health. "How  _could_  you?" I screamed, clenching my hands into fists. I floated forward, lurching when I flapped my wings. "Do you have any idea what it's been like at the Castle without you? Being the only one Mother has left to torment? I don't care if you left home- I mean, I'd be long gone too if Anti-Bryndin would allow it. But to not even come back? Didn't you care at all that I'd returned to the Castle after all these millennia?"

"Please don't yell indoors," Anti-Fergus chided, with limited emotion in his voice. "You'll wake li'l Ennet in the back. He's awful cranky when he don't get his whole nap."

Anti-Robin stared down at me, worn and tired. "Get lost, Clarice," he said. He didn't stutter. Except, he didn't really say "Get lost," but instead used a phrase that began with a foul word and ended with "off." I recoiled as though struck across the face, and he turned his back and bent to pick an empty milk carton off the dirty floor.

"Anti-Robin?" I whimpered. His adult name was still foreign on my tongue. He turned unhappily. When he did, I wrapped my arms around his torso and flattened him in a hug. He didn't try to shove me off, even with his wings. I cried into his shirt until I couldn't even force it anymore. I hit him a few times too, with my fist, but he acted as though he didn't notice. Or care.

"I missed you," I said. I wasn't sure if I meant it. I'd coped just fine without him, so what did that mean?

"Julius," he muttered when he turned on me. He raised his hand. I squinted in surprise, but it wasn't until the hand connected with my cheek that I realised  _yes_ , he was going to smack me. I stumbled back, holding my face, as he finished with a cold, "Wh-what have you done?"

"You sound like Mother," I choked out, my pride stinging most of all. I rubbed my jaw. It didn't hurt. He hadn't slapped me very hard; it was more of a clumsy shove that came too fast. I'd taken worse from my mum's staff.

Anti-Robin grabbed my hands and flipped them over so my palms faced up. I didn't see anything but blue fur, but he held them so tightly that I feared his claws would break skin. His eyes shut, and his teeth clenched. He leaned forward. His scruffy blue hair brushed my own. I felt his nose against my forehead. "What have you d-done with them?" he snarled. I could hear the tic in the back of his throat flaring up. His talons pinched. "You v-vile caterpillar! You are their curse forever, getting by on b-b-borrowed time you stole from the s-spirits themselves. You ought to qu-quake in shame. Haven't they s-suffered enough? Th-three words:  _Why? Them?"_

"I- I don't know what you want from me!" All I could do was stare up into my brother's furious green eyes, my legs shaking beneath me and my ears so low, I swear they brushed my shoulders.

 _"I know who you are!"_ he screamed, shaking my arms up and down. "Your past is laid bare! Wh-who are you to rob them of their s-skin when all you plan to do with it is b-b-breed yourself again? Does your lust never r-rest? They don't need your ch-ch-children! S-set the course straight! Tarrow's law is b-b-broken! It would have been b-better if they'd n-never been born at all!"

"Stop it," I whispered, tears rising in my eyes. Somewhere in the house, an infant began to wail, his screams tinted with panicked echolocation.

"S-smother her." Anti-Robin's face twisted with further rage. He rattled me back and forth again, his hands grasping for my neck. "She won't go underground! Sh-she's afraid she'll die again! I'll b-b-bury you alive, and that will s-set you free."

"Stop…" I raised my foot, and  _kicked_  my brother in the stomach. Hard. He stumbled as I shoved. At the same time, I slammed my wings down.  _"Yelling at me!"_

Anti-Robin's claws scraped down my hands. They peeled away. He fell against the back of the sofa, holding his stomach. Then he dropped to his knees. When he toppled on his side, he started to sob and didn't get up again. I wasn't sure what to make of that. Anti-Robin had never allowed me to see him cry before, for he always left the room when he felt the tears coming on. I flapped above him, trembling from the shoulders down, my hands plastered to my ears, until Anti-Kalysta took my arm and guided me to my chair.

"Let him be," she said.

"H-he's upset with Clarice." I squeezed my eyes shut. My claws dug into my scalp. "That's all. That's all it was. Th-this has nothing to do with me. This is Clarice's fault. I-it is, isn't it? It's Clarice? I'm innocent!"

Anti-Fergus bent over Anti-Robin, murmuring soothing words I could hardly make out. Anti-Robin's motor tic seemed to have left his mouth to overtake his entire body.

"I was j-j-just leaving," he choked out at last, slowly gathering himself together.

My nose wrinkled. I sniffed and hugged my chest. "Then… just go. I was just leaving too. And I have no plans to come back here again, so… You can live here if you want to, and you won't ever have to bother with me. Aug- Anti-Robin, I truly did miss you. You don't understand how hard it was for me at the Castle these last years-"

"And you think it w-wasn't hard for me when  _you_  r-r-ran away?" Anti-Robin met my gaze with scorn, and tossed his head. "F-Father was right. You always were a m-mama's boy."

He spread his wings and flew out of the house, shaky but airborne. Anti-Fergus reached after him, but his hand closed and fell to the table with a thunk. He bowed his head. My stomach twisted as though it had to be forced through a knothole. I prepared to follow him, but before I did, I forced myself to answer the strange, nagging thought thumping in the back of my mind. I turned to Anti-Kalysta, who stood to the side with a rather dumb smile on her face, and optimistic eyes.

"Ilisa had nine original children." I don't really know why I said that, only that it felt important, for some reason. Maybe Clarice wanted to know. "If it isn't too much trouble, could I ask which of them you're descended from? On her counterpart's side, of course."

Anti-Kalysta smiled at me for several seconds, blank and dumb, before Anti-Fergus nudged her with his elbow. "Oh," she said, setting down the basket of black beetle cookies. "Anti-Leander."

"Hmm," I muttered. The nagging feeling went away, but I wasn't sure why I'd felt so desperate to know. It wasn't as though I had any anti-wisp in my lineage, as far as I knew.

"Julius," Anti-Fergus began as I raced past him. I think he planned to stop me from pursuing my brother, but if that was true, then he didn't know me very well.

I could scarcely believe it. All this time, he'd been tangled up with a spirit just as I was. Or  _they'd_  been, rather. And my mother too. Imagine that.

I chased after Anti-Robin, flying as hard and fast after them as I could possibly make myself go. As I went, I pushed the last of the tears from my eyes. I caught up to them before very long, swooping over their head and then under them again as they fumbled their way through the air.

"Oh, hello there, dear brother of mine!" I waved my hand in a mad attempt to catch their eye. Wind whipped against my face. "I say, what's all this rushing about for, in the end? I hope you didn't believe I would let you treat me so horridly and then get away with it so easily. I may not be willing to stand up to Mother's abuses, but I'm not about to embark on the same cycle with you. This, I assuredly vow."

Anti-Robin flew in an awkward way. Rather than pin their hands beneath their armpits where they would stay warm and aerodynamic, I watched them flail about as though they required their arms to flap. I noticed they were weeping openly, but instead of sympathising with them, I found myself thoroughly annoyed by this display. "L-l-leave me alone," they spat.

"L-l-l-leave me alone," I mimicked them in high falsetto. I flew beneath them again, brushing so close to their body that they flinched and even whimpered. They batted me away.

"I m-m-mean it! I don't want anything to do with you anymore."

"Oh, how your voice has deepened with adulthood! And how I enjoy to listen to it. Tell me something else. A long and winding sentence, or perhaps a great paragraph. I know! Do you think my voice will turn out to be just like yours?"

"C-c-cruel and unusual."

"Abusive and proud, you are."

"You're h-horrible for lying to Mona. I-it's all told in your weave."

I pulled up short. "What? How do you-?"

Anti-Robin glanced back at me, but only once, and only for a brief instant. They dipped lower in the sky, then flew higher again. "Your b-betrothed doesn't belong to you. T-Tarrow always tries to pair together those who f-f-fell in love during their past l-lives. And for you, that was n-no one obtainable."

"Wait! Wait, how could you possibly know that?" I barrelled after him, speeding my wings faster and faster. "Anti-Fergus implied you could read my karmic weave! Do you really know of my past lives? Life? Is that what you're saying? Is there really no one meant for me? Anti-Robin? Anti-Robin!"

Their figure grew smaller and farther away in the deep red sky. For a moment, I hovered where I was, simply aghast. Then my eyes narrowed. My fists clenched. I welcomed the anger, as I had longed to welcome it for so many years.

"Hmph. I am no longer the anxious coward you remember me as, Augustus. Perhaps you aren't the only one who has changed."

I took my wand, and went to fire a beam of searing energy after my brother. I could see it all so clearly- The blast would strike them through the wing and doubtless leave a hole. Anti-Robin would stop flying. They would screech like an infant bird, and I'd perform flips in the air as I laughed. My knees would bend against my chest, and I would clutch my stomach until I feared that I would burst. And then, and then! Ohh, I would spiral in the air in the way that spiderwebs do and zip off in the other direction! Long-carried weights would plunge from my shoulders, and I would pump my wings ever faster. At last I'd have cut myself free from the guilty memories that always tied me to my brother and crept into my dreams. No, I didn't need to miss Anti-Robin anymore. Especially if this was how they planned to treat me. I wouldn't take that again. Dealing with Mother had hurt me enough. I would not allow the cycle of abuse to continue playing out in my relationship with them.

But I did not fire the wand. Oh, I certainly held it in my hand. And I pointed it after them as they faded in the distance. But although the confused tears dribbled down my cheeks, I only floated there, holding a silent starry stick.

Yes. This time… just one last time… I decided to do nothing. No one understood Anti-Robin better than I did, as we were two brothers raised under our cruel mother's hand, two young Anti-Fairies with nature spirits tangled in their brains. The Anti-Robin I remembered from my youth had never wanted to hurt me. And even though I was angry today, I knew that beneath the confused swirlings of the spirit inside their head, that was part of them that hadn't changed. I wanted to believe they still loved me, that this confusion which had overtaken them was merely temporary and would pass if I was only patient.

So I did not shoot them. I made my choice. Just this one time, I would stand against our traditions and customs, and I would swallow my pride. Yes. I let them go. Even though I wasn't sure what that made me. A coward, for not seeking revenge on those who had wronged me? A fool, for letting abuses go unpunished? Why, what would the rest of the colony think of me if they discovered what I had done? That at the height of my fury, I had succumbed to showing  _mercy_  over justice? Oh, the shame of it!

Anti-Fairies were creatures of balance. Anti-Robin was my elder brother and ought to be respected, but now they had sunk a level by striking me, so no Anti-Fairy would bat an eye if I chose to respond by hurting them. A claw for a claw, an eye for an eye. It was our fate. It was decided.

But I could not - I  _would_  not - hurt Anti-Robin. Not today. The tears fell unapologetically from my eyes, but I remained firm in my decision. Not today. There had been enough pain and bad blood between us today. Today, there would be forgiveness instead of pain. And so I turned tail and flew away without retaliation, unsure what the balance and the karma of the universe meant to me anymore. Oh, I was far from being the typical Anti-Fairy, wasn't I? Maybe I really did possess a Fairy brain tucked inside the wrong body.

Perhaps on my way back to Anti-Fairy World tonight, I would stop by Novakiin again in search of Ambrosine. I could ask him about my brother. Perhaps those two could find each other, and maybe that would fix them. Surely Ambrosine would be able to find his son's counterpart if he tried, and Anti-Fergus could show him the way. Ambrosine was not the greatest therapist I'd ever met, but he was the only one I knew, and I wanted nothing more for my brother than for them to find good help.

Crossing the Barrier through the Divide gate was easy, and I bapped Jorgen von Strangle on the head with my wand as I flitted by, flaunting my orange travel card. He shouted something unintelligible, and I laughed aloud and reveled in it. It took a great deal longer than it should have to argue my way across some of the Region borders, since I didn't have a Daoist baptism medal to stand in as my passport to the southern parts of Fairy World. But at last, after spurts of  _poof_ ing, far too many tram rides, and with my wings sore from flapping, I reached the Eros Nest. Charming little prison, isn't it?

I made the mistake of attempting to enter the place through the wingchair entrance on the side, which flared my anxiety before I even set claw indoors. I flew around. Ah, there it was. The doors were automatic nowadays, and startled me when they slid apart. The cherubs at the front desk (Francesco and Albert) didn't seem to know quite what to make of me. After all, I was a lone Anti-Fairy claiming I had come to see a show. They waved me through anyhow.

My first stop was, of course, to see the Anti-Fairies in their flyover tunnel. But to my surprise, the enclosure on my right side was completely devoid of life. Only the left-hand tunnel was in use, with the anti-habetrots, anti-barbegazi, anti-banshees, anti-duende, anti-kobolds, and anti-dwarves flitting about and munching on enormous pears and mangoes. I watched them for a long moment, wondering about their colourations. All the Anti-Fairies I could see ranged between shades of blue and purple. Wings were black or brown, with the anti-barbegazi having stark white ones like those of the ghost bat that was their patron. All were without clothing, and none came up to the mesh to greet me. They only squeaked, squealed, and played amongst one another. There wasn't a single green creature flying about with them.

How had Anti-Fergus got his colour? I'd forgotten to ask him. My father's notes suggested a mutation in his genes, strange as it was to think about. Perhaps Anti-Robin could tell me someday if they knew otherwise.

I shook out my wings to remind myself why I'd come. Of course, I planned to see this show on ice myself before I dared apply for the open job. I knew the rink had to be nearby. In fact, in the right-hand tunnel, I could see the Employees Only door at the rear of the enclosure that the performers must have passed through on their way out. I read a few of the podium plaques containing information about various Anti-Fairy subspecies, then hurried out of the tunnel in hopes of making it to the show in time.

But when I slid around the corner, I bumped right into a young anti-fairy damsel curling the back of her hair with a hot wand. We both stumbled against a grey door marked, helpfully,  _To Rink._  My hand flew out to brace myself, and slapped the damsel's wrist against the cold metal. Our startled fingers tightened together. A second damsel behind her squeaked and ducked her head. "Oh!" I cried when our eyes met. Hurriedly, I straightened my glasses. "Dear me, I'm so terribly sorry. Are you all right, luv?"

The anti-fairy in front of me wore a full sapphire suit, perhaps tailored, covered in sparkly sequins and rhinestones. Floating above her head was the most amazing hat I had ever seen outside of Liloei's lamp. It was soft, rounded, and a beautiful pale, dusky blue.

 _Now, where might I find a hat like that?_  I wondered, struggling to slide my gaze anywhere else. The fabric might have been felt, or something silkier. I wasn't sure, although it did have a certain peach fuzz quality to it that I longed to reach out and touch.

She didn't look much older than I was… perhaps just barely under 150,000, and the identical damsel in the green suit who was half-hidden behind her seemed about the same. Something about the face before me, like a memory, pecked at the back of my mind. I squinted, and the damsel in blue brightened at once and grasped my wrists.

"Green eyes and ragged ears!  _Ben'argenta!"_

"Oh!" I tried (and failed) to squirm my wrist from her grip. "Wait a moment. I know you, don't I? Why, yes! Ahahaha! I say, you're the anti-fairy with the lovely blue curls who spoke Vatajasa with me all those years ago when I was twenty-one, aren't you?"

She grinned, flashing the flat fangs I best remembered her for. "Yep! And this time, I'm wearing clothes!"

Another laugh spurted from my lips before I could try to stop it. I covered my mouth, clenching my eyes shut until my chuckles ended. "Yes, yes, I suppose you are, my dear. And it's a good look for you, I must say."

"Aw, shucks. You's a real charmer. I like your funny new glassy eyes. Hey, we was never formally introduced, was we?" She stuck out her hand, the way a Fairy would greet a stranger. Her sleeve glittered beneath the fake sunshine-white Eros Nest lights, dazzling the walls with twinkles of blue. "Name's Anti-Wanda. Winter of the Surrounding Thunder. Or at least, I think that's what I am."

A Sky year, then. That suited her, somehow, with all her loud but playful forwardness. I clasped her hand in mine, but the name that jumped from my lips was, "I'm Anti-Cosmo. Autumn of the Black Lake. I mean, I'm technically a Summer since that's the time my litter were birthed, but really, I tell everyone I'm an Autumn as that's the time my body met my lifesmoke. It's a bit of a misnomer seeing as my private name stems from a summer month and not an autumn at all, so really I suppose I should just swallow my pride and agree with my mother's insistence that I am a Summer child rather than an Autumn one despite the delays that resulted in my dark colour, and… Oh bother, there I go again, ahahaha." I pressed my right hand to my cheek, my fingers folding in. I could feel slithers of effervescence leaking from my palm and waving against my face. I struggled to keep my wingbeats steady. "Aha, you see, I always do this when I'm nervous. Not that I really should be nervous around you, for you really aren't that intimidating at all, and I mean that in the best possible way. Oh my, I'm terribly sorry, darling. Do forgive me for babbling on as I do. This really never happens, although I suppose it sometimes does."

"I get you," she said, the last word rolling into one. I forced a shaky smile, but it disappeared.

"Look here, I'm so sorry. I have this problem when I'm in social settings, and I get terribly anxious at this time of season cycle. It's spring, you know. My mind became entangled with that of a baby nature spirit when I was born, you know what I mean, ahaha? A lightning spirit. The one I tangled myself up with, so my thoughts don't always come out the way a normal person's should. Although our historian, Anti-Karina, hates it when I use the word 'normal' and I really must apologize. Anti-Karina is on the camarilla court, see. Do you know the camarilla? Well, she holds the seat of Soil, on Anti-Elina's side. Lightning spirits are always more antsy in spring, with the summer storms just around the corner, and that's when I flare up the most. Or at least, I think I do, although Ambrosine has his own theories regarding the nature of things, and they're really very unpleasant to discuss (Ambrosine is my therapist). Her name is Clarice. Sorry. My spirit's is. Although she isn't really 'mine' since she's her own soul, and she's only sharing this body with me…" I shook my head, and at last gave Anti-Wanda a smile that held. "What I mean to say is, I'm Anti-Cosmo. Year of Water."

Anti-Wanda slapped her knee, kicking one foot behind her. "Gol _ly!_  Somebody wrap him up and lock him in my tank for a couple of weeks. Get on that, Anti-Wendy; I'll take two. Heck, you sure are a people person, Anti-Cosmo. I gotta say, I'm really loving the way y'all High South Region folk talk, h'yuk!"

Her cheerful accent  _exploded_  out of her like bubbly cider in a shot glass. It rang out like bells clanging on a windy day, falling down my shoulders in a rapid series of gushing waterfalls. Her "you"s came out like "ya"s and the words that ended in "ing" sounds bounced up in a sharp and delightfully unexpected manner. It swept me away, spun me around, and dropped me on my feet in a giddy whirl that carbonated my stomach acid. Nothing left Anti-Wanda's lips unless it bloomed with life, and I knew in an instant that you simply couldn't have a dull conversation with a damsel like that. Her spunk wouldn't allow you to. Anti-Wanda was a damsel who would never leave you bored, and her own smile made mine flower in turn.

"Well." Modestly, I placed my hand against my chest. "I mean, it  _does_  help considerably that I was blessed with eloquence from the moment I was born. I could run rings around my brother's tongue before I knew how to float, ahaha. You know, darling, if I am disclosing my thoughts in full, I'd be a liar if I didn't comment on that exquisite hat of yours. Its majesty compels my attention from afar, and if you step onto the ice with that floating above your head, then frankly I shan't be able to keep my eyes off its wearer the entire performance."

Anti-Wanda howled with laughter. And you know what the funny thing really was? I didn't feel offended in the slightest. Under normal circumstances, laughter might have sent me cringing away in fear of being mocked. But when Anti-Wanda laughed, she brought two skies together in a pair more natural than kitnut butter and jelly. It was the welcoming laughter of an old friend, rather than the sneer of an offended roostmate. My wings lifted. Suddenly, here in the Eros Nest, I wasn't a tongue-tied buffoon puffed up with hot air, chasing dreams that I would never reach. I was witty! I was clever!

I was  _charming_. What fun!

"You're a real devil of a flirt, Anti-Cosmo," Anti-Wanda told me, giving her finger a wave of warning. "I'll let that one slide off my back this time, but keep that up, and I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"Leave? Ha! Leave you blushing up a storm Munn himself will envy for a decade, from the looks of things, wot?"

All right. So I stole that line out of Ilisa Maddington's biography, I admit it. But could you blame me? I was set up. I hadn't intended to flirt with her- Really, my original intent was only to compliment her on her beautiful hat. All the rest sort of, well…  _happened_ , like a forgotten instinct. Or a promise yet to come.

And it was  _so_  worth it to listen to Anti-Wanda's musical giggle. She fell against the door to the ice rink, this time with both hands on her mouth and her shoulders shaking. The damsel behind her (Anti-Wendy as I recalled, and they looked so much alike that I suspected they had to be sisters close in age) only watched us both in timid silence and fidgeted with her sequined sleeves.

After a moment, Anti-Wanda regained herself and straightened up. "Okay, okay, tap the lid down. Look, I'm all for playing jokey, but we gotta call it quits for a couple hours now." And she laughed again. "That oughta give me enough time to think up a proper way to answer that one."

I couldn't help myself. I watched Anti-Wanda's mouth, my smile creeping out despite my best efforts to press it back. Confidence sparkled on her lips even more than on her clothes. It was in the casual way she leaned her arm against her cane, and the way she positioned herself between me and Anti-Wendy. Anti-Wanda didn't seem to be standing there because she feared I might actually hurt her sister, I should think, but because it soothed her sister's uncertainties to have her there. Simply put, Anti-Wanda projected a wonderfully sweet and protective air about her, like a knowing tour guide or motherly acolyte. I wanted Mona to turn out just like that when she and I were raising our pups.

Anti-Wendy coughed into her fist and gave her sister's sleeve a tug. Anti-Wanda twisted one of her blue curls around her claw. When she let it go, it sprang into a coil. She flashed her bulging flat teeth. "Well, you've been a trouble bubble of fun, Anti-Cosmo, but my sis and I have gotta hit the ice. You're gonna get us late, and my boss'll donate my earnings to charity instead of buying me lunch."

I arched my eyebrows. "Ah, but what better way to spend an afternoon than chatting with a fine gentleman such as myself, who only has your best interests at heart?"

She snorted and set her free hand to her hip. "It's my dumb ol' hat you're after, you codfish."

"Not true, not true." I reached for the hand that held her cane, and raised it to my lips as though I meant to kiss her knuckles. I allowed my gaze to linger on her face. "I'm more interested in the one who's wearing it."

Anti-Wanda's lips twitched again. She pushed my shoulder with her other hand. "Which is gonna be my study-underer in about ten wingbeats if you don't get out of my way."

I allowed her wrist to flutter down with a sigh. "Oh, very well. If you really must go. But I shall count down the moments until I see you both twirling about out there in the rink in all your splendour." I nodded at Anti-Wendy too, and she ducked shyly away.

Anti-Wanda tapped her chin. "Huh. You wanna hear a secret? Sit your blue buns in the front row, starboard side. You'll get a good view."

I leaned forward on my toes, clasping my hands behind my back. "Mm, is that so?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of the  _show,_ ya snick."

Her voice was marshmallow on butterscotch, drizzled in chocolate cream, with definite nuts littered all throughout it. A hint rocky, and just a bit lumpy here and there, but I could have listened to her talk all day.

"Your Snobbish is impeccable now," I breathed. Perhaps we had both come a long way since the tiny days of our youth. To think: The last time we'd exchanged words, we'd both been fumbling around.

"Huh?" Her eyes widened. "What's that, 'peckapecking'?'"

The question left her in a purr that slid the two words into one with a thrilling roll of  _zzz_ s. A slight chill tiptoed down my spine. As a performer of the stage, Anti-Wanda conveyed that sort of majesty over everyone, I'm quite sure. I shivered and smiled yet again. "Oh, dear me. I'm sorry, darling. Allow me to clarify for you. I was only saying that your Snobbish has improved immensely over the years. It's delightful to communicate with you so easily, without that pesky language barrier keeping us apart."

Anti-Wanda nodded. "Well, it was my native tongue, a real long time ago. Learning it back was kinda easier than learning Vatajasa frontwards. I gotta say, my soul always kinda missed it."

"Yes, well, it's clear the language never left you."

She smiled. "Well, shucks. It'll never be as perfect as it coulda been, but I try. You're a mighty sweet potato, Anti-Cosmo. Maybe I'll see ya 'round the Nest another day? We ain't ever busy here any time other than our shows."

"Around?" A thrill coursed through my blood. I had a friend here now! Someone who, like Anti-Kanin, was actively choosing to be around me because she honestly enjoyed my company, and not simply because she and I had been betrothed when we were seven years old, or because she was my cousin, or anything like that! Ah!

"Well, yeah!" Anti-Wanda tucked one of her bouncy curls over her shoulder. "I'll bet you've got a whole lot of stories to tell about what the outside world is like."

"You want to travel someday," I remembered.

Her eyes turned wistful with pain. "Yeah. More than anything. But here I am, doing my shows 'til the boss dame lets me go. S'not all bad. At least I ain't messed in the head all animal-dumb like the fruities across the way. They're a heckuva lot cuckoo in the keisters, if'n you know what I mean."

Behind her, Anti-Wendy coughed again. This time, I stepped away, and even offered the dames a farewell bow. "I'll be going now. Front row. Starboard side. There I'll be, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"You big blunt High Southy drakes," was the last thing I heard Anti-Wanda say as she and Anti-Wendy passed through the door to the rink. "Telling me about your tail before we even got a date."

The heavy door fell shut behind them. I stood, speechless, just staring after them.

How did I  _do_  that? Why, I was perhaps the most anxious drake in the entire Castle, except I suppose for jittery Harold. True, I'd gained tremendous practice whispering sweet teasings to Mona, but I'd never tried to use them on anyone else before. I hadn't thought I'd be able to. Flirting hadn't been my intention when I began this conversation, for in all honesty, I'd simply wished to express my love for her wonderful hat. I mean, it wasn't as though I were at all attracted to this damsel. How could I be, when I didn't even know her? I certainly didn't feel anything for her the way I felt for Mona. Not in a physical sense. And yet, the flirting (if that's what it really was) came so naturally to me once I got started, like an old and forgotten instinct.

I glanced uncertainly at the corridor around me, rubbing behind my neck. Um. Well, in truth, I wasn't sure I was comfortable accepting the fact that I had just engaged in such playful banter with another damsel behind Mona's back. She  _had_  recently asked me not to conspire with damsels in secret, after all.

But then again… Why, Mona would never find out about this so long as I didn't tell her. I should hate to upset her, so I would simply take this secret to my next incarnation. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, you know what I mean?

I shook my head, whistled a single low note, and reached up to adjust my crown. "My oh my. What a fine dame that Anti-Wanda was, wouldn't you say, Lohai darling? You know, the one Julius on my shoulder is saying that she and I must have been as thick as thieves or saints in a former life. And the Julius on my other shoulder is chiding me not to let a good girl go. Hm."

With my hands still clasped behind me, I made my way around to the ice rink's public entrance door, musing over the shining bounce that lived in Anti-Wanda's eyes.

The crowd that came to watch the show was small, and comprised of more non-magical Alien tourists than Fairies. I made it to my seat the very second before the lights in the skating rink dimmed. Front row as promised, divided from the ice by a mere glass barrier with a thick rail along the top. As I settled in and crossed my arms against the chill, I puzzled over my spontaneous conversation with Anti-Wanda. Fascinating dame to be sure, but  _oh_ , how amusing she was! She'd stolen my friendship without even trying. Had I really been out there a moment ago, indulging in a playful spot of banter with a dame I hardly knew?

I evaluated my opinion of Anti-Wanda once more as the show's music began, and found myself surprised (and just a bit disappointed) not to turn up any feelings I considered officially romantic. Oh.

The skaters entered the rink one at a time, to the delight of the crowd. A thin, black-haired drake who looked familiar would be playing Anti-Kahnii, the first High Count of the Anti-Fairies long, long ago. I squinted at him, tapping one claw against my cheek. Ah, yes. His name was Anti-Juandissimo, as I recalled from our introductions long ago. Well, he looked androgynous enough for the part, with his dark hair tied back in that low pegasustail. I'd believe it.

Half the performers gathered in a circle on one side of the rink, and the other half on the far end. I was high enough in the seats that I could see them all fairly well. A single figure stood in each circle of ice dancers. The one nearer me was Anti-Wanda, in her lead role as Anti-Shylinda Anti-Coppertalon, the first High Countess. In the other circle was Anti-Wendy, shy and fidgety. She was the only one on the ice to be wearing green instead of blue, but for the life of me, I couldn't put my claw on why.

That is, until Anti-Wanda began to sing. A hush fell across the rink as her circle of companions broke to reveal her. I cocked my ears forward, as captivated as a promise on the line. She lifted her cane in the air, and balanced it on a single claw.  _While_  she skated about.

"Yup!  _Colour fell to poor blue hands with Rhoswen's fade to dust. Coppertalons rose up then to tame the ancient lust. With spirit bears to guide our way, we'll build our people up."_

Anti-Wanda's voice rang with the passion of someone who had studied her lines carefully for weeks on end, and not only committed them to memory, but learned their emotions too. I  _melted_  into it. It was then that Anti-Juandissimo skated forward and threw out his arms to welcome all of us.

" _The way won't be an easy one, and we have pasts to shed. From smoke we came, so smoke we'll chase, our travel lanterns burning red. Anti-Shy, find us a home!"_

" _Find us a home!"_ the other skaters chorused, and Anti-Juandissimo pointed high.

" _Umbrae fierce and biting strong, now who can set us free?"_

The music tipped into a lighter tune, swirling with butter and liquid love. Anti-Wanda leaned against her cane and gave her hat a tip.  _"I'm Anti-Shy! My people cry. So what's a gal to do? Oh, it ain't no accident I'm queen, 'cuz I've got me some secrets… Yeah, I've got me some secreeets too!"_  With the hook of her cane, Anti-Wanda tugged Anti-Juandissimo towards her by the neck _._  She winked at the crowd in the process.  _"I never claimed or tried to say I weren't the type that trouble finds. So when Lady Luck's got a problem, yeah! Betcha every coin I've got, her problem's bound ta be with me."_

Ah, so Anti-Wendy must be playing Lady Luck tonight, with all the forces of wild umbrae and untamed demons at her command, and in hot pursuit of the early anti-fairies that Anti-Shylinda had led to what became the Blue Castle's building site. Though Anti-Wendy was still so nervous and shaky under the spotlight, this promised to be interesting indeed. I couldn't help my smirk. Costumes swirled and music played. Dancers paired up and spun one another around. Anti-Juandissimo grabbed both of Anti-Wanda's wrists, and together they took the floor, with the snowflake-shaped spotlight tailing behind them. I folded my arms on the railing and leaned as far forward as I could go. All the skaters' movements captivated my imagination and stole my soul away. For a moment, it was as though I were dancing beside them, keeping pace dash for dash across the ice.

Anti-Juandissimo released Anti-Wanda and left her in the spotlight alone. She twirled on one foot as though she'd done it every day of her life. She twirled longer, and longer, and then the crowd was gasping as she held her foot in her hand and bent her leg behind her head. Silent appreciation left my lips in something like a sigh. Flexibility, fast and furious, was a highly valued trait among Anti-Fairies, and not one I had ever put forth the effort into mastering myself. She bathed in that lone spotlight, twinkling with more sapphire than the setting moon in a silver pond.

She was incredible. Only a liar or a loon would try to tell you otherwise. For the first time in my life, I wished I had grown up in the Eros Nest alongside her. I'd have loved to skate the way she did.

Anti-Wanda's foot returned to the rink. She zipped directly towards me. I blinked, and with a whisper, she was there. She hopped up onto the railing directly in front of my nose, her skates dangling over the ice. Startled, I tried to pull away. Anti-Wanda caught my wrist before I could go far. She made the same wagging motion with her finger that she had earlier when we were in the corridor.

_"So if you're down in Hy-Brasil, boy, try your luck and come on down tomorr-ah… I'll play snapjik; you try fidch'. We'll see which of us the winner is. These blue hills could use a li'l settling down, and I'm sure liking the view so far."_

The crowd  _ooh_ ed and chuckled around me as though they could see me turning pink beneath my fur. Speechless, I gazed up at her. My mouth might have been dangling more than a little. I couldn't say for certain what it was about that mystifying damsel in the blue sequined suit, but something about her presence was oddly comfortable, even though she and I were still mainly strangers. It had something to do with the fact that when I listened to her speak… I was content to simply listen, and be. I didn't feel as though I was expected to be anything more than what I was.

When Anti-Wanda smiled at me, she glowed like sunshine across the North Pole. She plucked off her bowler hat and dropped it squarely on my crown. It was so large, I had to push its brim up out of my eyes. By the time I did, she had slipped back to the ice and skated away again. My cheeks turned a blustery cold to suit my flushing. If I'd been asked to speak, only a squeak would have left my mouth.

 _What a damsel,_ I thought again.

In the next instant, the reason for my nerves clicked. The culture of Anti-Fairy World demanded strict social protocol, reliant upon the elements of the zodiac cycle. Being born in the Water year, it was my inborn right to lead Sky, Soil, Breath, and Leaves years in all ways, whether that be by guiding conversations, or by twirling about in a dance onstage. I was likewise expected to defer to those born in the Love and Fire years at all times. Only they were socially permitted to be the first to approach me. Truth be told, such culture was ingrained in me so deeply, I'd never questioned it even during my long and boring years trapped inside of Liloei's lamp.

But while Anti-Wanda may be an Anti-Fairy, she hadn't grown up under my cultural umbrella living here in the Eros Nest. So this was new to me. I tried to remind myself that she was only doing her job, and if it involved a bit of toying with the audience, well, then that was simply how it was. I mean, I'm sure she said the same thing to every anti-fairy drake who crossed the border and came up all this way. The fact remained that she had no idea she was doing something completely unheard of in Anti-Fairy society at large: A Sky damsel, openly taking the initiative to flirt with a drake she knew perfectly well to be a Water? Ha… ha… Ahahaha… It wasn't natural! Why, I didn't even know her!

Now I was the one who was blushing up the storm that would incite Munn's envy. In a matter of social status, Anti-Wanda was beneath me. She had no right to come onto me like this without invitation, even if it was all pretend play. I mean, can you imagine Munn ever teasing Sunnie the same way Anti-Wanda was teasing me? No, of course not. It wasn't his right. There was order in all things, and Anti-Fairies understood that better than anyone. The universe had a particular balance to maintain. Tarrow designed my people to be ultra sensitive to the ebb and flow of luck in the world so we might help to keep that balance. Those born in the year of Sky were intended to be subject to those born in the year of Water, for only then could true, balanced happiness be attained. That was what I had been taught ever since I was born. The spirits had their ways for a reason. Tarrow knew best. This was our fate. It was decided.

I was supposed to be horrendously offended that Anti-Wanda would even consider flirting with me in such a direct way in the public eye. Yet here I stood on the other side of the barrier from the most bubbly damsel I had ever had the pleasure of conversing with, and I wasn't offended at all.

I wasn't supposed to enjoy this in any manner whatsoever. It was unthinkably inappropriate. Sacrilegious, even. No, no, I certainly wasn't supposed to enjoy her teasings.

But I  _did._

Yes, yes, it was all a game to her, but good smoke, I felt so blooming  _wanted._  Although, I knew then and there that I could never accept a job on the rink beside her. No. This was Anti-Wanda's place, and I could never measure up to her standards here. I should so hate to embarrass her in her own element.

When Anti-Wanda skated off, she performed spin after leap, and leap after spin. Anti-Juandissimo joined in now and again. They skated as a couple, swinging one another around. In this way, Anti-Wanda made her way along the outer edge of the rink. For part of her routine, she skated backwards as she blew kisses in my general direction. Then Anti-Juandissimo swung her again, and sent her twirling away.

 _How curious,_ I thought rather absently.  _I wonder how she'll manage to avoid that wall just behind her._

My question was answered when she smacked straight into it. Or rather, her foot did. Yes. I was there at the Nest to witness the day that Anti-Wanda's skate connected furiously with the glass and shattered the entire pane. Shards flew into the audience, and gasps circled the arena like a snake. I clapped my hand over my mouth and clamped my lips shut. That blocked my echolocation from picking up some of the details, but it didn't change the fact that I had just seen that poor damsel crash and fall. She lay on the ice with both hands crumpled around her jaw. Anti-Juandissimo, in a flustered panic, fled the rink at top speed.

He left her. Anti-Wanda was alone there amidst the frost and glass shards, limp. The crowd shuffled around me. People whispered, but no one moved. I could do nothing but stare at her unmoving body. She needed help. Or if she wasn't injured physically, she was bound to require a shoulder to cry on in order to take the edge off the embarrassment she must be burning under now.

But no one was coming for her. And Anti-Juandissimo had fled. Well, any moment now, I'd leap out there myself and rush to her aid.

Any moment now.

Any moment now…

I shrank into my seat, covering my face with my hands. The bowler hat's brim tipped over my eyes again. I sizzled with second-hand shame. Oh, how humiliated that poor dame must be, lying sprawled out there on the ice, dazed and stunned!

A moment later, Anti-Wanda popped onto her knees, laughing until she howled, and the crowd laughed along with her to hide the ones who were laughing at her. I clutched the hat more tightly to my head and wilted like a flower. I suppose that's when and where I learned how well a little laughter can disguise a lot of pain.

It was an hour more before the ice show ended. Once it had, I waited in the corridor outside the side door to the rink, holding Anti-Wanda's bowler hat between my hands. Sure enough, the performers came out before long. The first few didn't hold my interest. I continued to wait. At last I spotted Anti-Wanda and Anti-Juandissimo float through the doorway, chatting and laughing together. Both halted when they saw me. Anti-Juandissimo took one look at my face, and his eyes widened. They snapped down to my hand, then up again.

"I hope I'm not intruding on a moment," I apologised, and held out the hat. "You see, I only wanted to return this. I would hate to be a bother. You were wonderful out there today, you know. Absolutely wonderful. And that was a smashing recovery you made after your fall, I must say."

Too late did I realise "smashing" was perhaps the worst adjective I could have used here. I forced on a strained smile anyhow.

Anti-Wanda lit up. She pulled Anti-Juandissimo towards her by the shoulders, steering him directly in front of me. "Hey! Anti-Cosmo, this here's my sugar-sweet boyfriend, Anti-Juandy. You remember?"

Boyfriend. She still had that  _boyfriend_.

A fiery emotion like skewered lightning shot through me from tail to temples, bubbling in my veins. Oh, if only I could find the words to explain how I felt when I saw her there with her casual arm slung around Anti-Juandissimo's shoulders- how absolutely  _proud_  I was that she had maintained such a trusting relationship with him for so many years, even if at times he fled her side in knee-jolt shame. She'd forgiven him anyway, as a loving partner should. Their relation was built on unbreakable care.  _That's_  what love is all about.  _Good on you, my silly little crumpet!_  I wanted to shout, my false smile breaking into a true one.  _No one handed you anything on a silver platter! No one can stop you! You're doing grand!_

"Ahaha! Why, of course I remember you, Anti-Juan, you dashing old comedian." I held out my hands, palms down for him to take. "We were best friends in another lifetime, I'm sure."

 _"Oui, oui, monsieur,"_ he softly said, his gaze downcast. He took my hands, sliding his fingers very quickly. I smirked despite myself and straightened my wings.

"I say, you're a bit of a shy tucker there, eh?" And he hobbled when he walked, too.

Anti-Juandissimo nodded mutely and kissed Anti-Wanda's cheek. She nuzzled him in turn and waved farewell to me. I chuckled as they floated by. They weren't the handsomest pair I'd ever met, but they were certainly interesting.

Then my smile faded. Wait a moment. I checked my hand, then patted the pockets of my coat, frowning as I went along. Funny… Now, where was my…?

I clicked my teeth, then  _poof_ ed in front of Anti-Juandissimo so I was floating on my stomach, my chin propped up on my hands. He and Anti-Wanda both flicked back their ears in surprise. I raised my eyebrows. "If I may trouble you just a moment more, my good fellow?"

_"Oui?"_

I pointed twice down at his hand, then pointed sideways at my bare middle finger. Anti-Juandissimo glanced down. Sheepishly, he opened his fist to reveal my turquoise betrothal ring. The clever thief had slipped it from my finger. Impressive. He held it up, and I made a show of swiping it back and twisting it into place again. Anti-Wanda, at least, looked both confused and somewhat embarrassed for her companion's actions. As she should. When I grinned, I showed all my fangs and then some.

"Thaaank you. Well now, see you around, old chap. And I'll most certainly keep my ear out for  _you_ , Anti-Wanda, should you ever make a name for yourself as a traveller someday. Do look me up anytime you pass near the Blue Castle, wot? Ta ta!" With a tip of my crown and a twitch of my wand, I was gone from their lives as quickly as I'd come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Anti-Fergus told Julius is true: Despite the suspicions of those in the Castle, it was never Anti-Robin Sr. who had a hereditary mental illness, but Anti-Florensa. Since Fairies and Anti-Fairies don't understand human disorders (and can't contract the same ones due to the fact that Fairy and Anti-Fairy brains are halfway between those of humans and halfway between those of animals), Anti-Florensa and Anti-Robin Jr. would both be diagnosed with divus displacement disorder or as having a nature spirit tangled in their brains like Julius was, even though their conditions are different.
> 
> As we already know, Julius has a magical condition similar to bipolar disorder, but with more bat/insect biology. Anti-Florensa and Anti-Robin Jr. have something closer to schizophrenia (wind spirits). Schizophrenia normally shows up in young adulthood, and our magical schizophrenia condition here is the same way. Anti-Florensa can make educated guesses about one's future according to the flow of their karmic weave. Anti-Robin Jr. can read bits and pieces of one's past life. Both can sense karmic weaves without wearing Tarrow's sacred cloak (the red one First General Anti-Buster wears), and without biting into the "karmic pouch" on the left side of someone's neck. Of course, having something like schizophrenia kick on only during young adulthood means Anti-Robin Jr. never showed signs of his condition until now, and received no treatments in his youth as a result.
> 
> Basically, Fairies consider all extreme deviations from "the norm" in Anti-Fairies to be the result of divus displacement disorder. It's all they know. Anti-Fairies are aware that there are different subsets of the disorder, and explain them through the use of nature spirits. Do forgive Anti-Florensa and Anti-Robin for their rudeness and abuses- I wrote them this way because plot. Don't worry too much about Anti-Robin's fate. He's not in a good place right now since he's still overwhelmed with the sheer amount of information he's just starting to read off people, but he'll improve over time and heal his relationship with his little brother, too. Happy ending! (Anti-Florensa's kind of stuck because she's stubbornly in denial and refuses any kind of treatment, though.)
> 
> Possibly worth pointing out that I always write Anti-Cosmo being super uncomfortable around the anti-wisps purely because if I resolved all the social stigmas in his time period, there wouldn't be anything left for Foop and Anti-Marigold to go up against. Do forgive him. It's not a piece of his character I'm fond of, but such is his fate. It's decided.


	18. Cocoa Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter parallels the Origin of the Pixies chapter "Spoonful of Sugar."

  _In which Julius gets a job at the Sugarslew Chocolate Factory during the Spring of the Crashing Pine, and meets two oddly square fairies come the summer season_

* * *

White chocolate… was… my ultimate weakness. Truffles, mochas, cookies, éclairs. Bloody Darkness, I'd guzzle the stuff straight from the fountain if I were ever fast enough to reach the table before Mother caught the back of my neck and yanked me down. While I always strove to be a drake of refinement who abstained from sugar at large, the siren song of white chocolate would forever be one I simply couldn't resist.

October 13th was Patrons' Day, and oh what a celebration it was that particular year. I'd spent the last several dozen holidays at Frederick Shinesworth's, but this time, I caved in. I came home to the Blue Castle, and I ate  _white_   _chocolate._  Why, I even invited Noon to join our festivities that year, and he came with his black and silver hair tied up and a fiction book under one arm. Entire extended families arrived behind us… along with a few particularly colourful characters.

Extra emphasis placed on  _colourful_ , I decided after literally bumping into the Purple Robe himself. He wore his street clothes that day, with no hood on his head. I politely took the fault for the collision myself, as it was obvious his mind wasn't all there at the moment. Smiling thinly, I fixed my monocle (a recent addition to my look, gifted to me by Ashley on my last birthday) against my eye. I liked it  _so_  much better than my old glasses, but it would still take some getting used to.

"Oh, I say! Sir, you're terribly sugarloaded. Might I suggest sitting down for a matter of moments? I can show you to a bench if you would like that."

Shamaiin giggled and swirled his spiced cocoa around with a spoon. His words slurred when he informed me, "Kitty tells me about the funniest boats."

I winced at his volume, pressing back my ears. Well, "Kitty" was more likely than not short for "Kitigan," Anti-Bryndin's private name. As for "boats," it was possible he had confused the word with "jokes" whilst in his sugared-up state. "Ah… boats, you say? Hm. Yes, how very lovely. Do tell."

"Boats and bread," Shamaiin went on dreamily. He raised his mug to his lips. "And corks to get. I'm one of those."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that. Fortunately, it didn't matter. Anti-Bryndin appeared then and placed one hand on Shamaiin's shoulders. With the other, he handed me his glass of orange drink.

"I will handle him, Julius. You are welcome to run along."

"Yes, High Count."

With a purr in his words, Anti-Bryndin gave Shamaiin's wrist a gentle tug. "Ah, come with me and we shall sit together as two people sit alone, Shamaiin. I know a room where we can go to sit in private."

"Mmhm. That sounds nice. Ever notice how 'corks' is such a strange word, Kit?"

"And that's the Robe I campaigned for," Noon told me, the amusement dripping from his voice. He kept his hands in his pockets, somehow still keeping his book from falling to the floor.

"He's a nice old chap, really. Or at least, that's what Anti-Bryndin always says. He took the fellow's stroke favour just after the elections, you know."

Noon's eyebrows shot into his hair. "Did he really? Shopped in public jewellry stores for it and everything? You'd think I'd have heard. Okay, spill. I assume the one Shamaiin picked out for him is purple."

"But of course!" I pointed my claw down my throat to indicate the tongue stud one was sure to find buried in the back of Anti-Bryndin's mouth among all his others. Such was Anti-Fairy tradition among the adults, and where the High Count was concerned especially. Elaborate jewels for tongue piercings symbolised deep and committed bonds of friendship, although if we're being wholly honest, I fully expected to get my first stud within five minutes of my renaming ceremony. As I've stated quite clearly before, I've never claimed to be as pure and innocent as my squeamish brother. Glancing at Noon, I gave an exaggerated roll of my eyes. "Though truthfully, we all knew there was something going on between those two even before he let it slip. You know Anti-Bryndin.  _Seduction_  could be his private name."

"It certainly won't hurt us to have a Fairy Council member who sympathizes with Anti-Fairies even more than I realised," my roommate mused.

"No, it won't. I'll grant you the details another time, perhaps, when there aren't so many ears around, ahaha." Once I was quite certain that Shamaiin and Anti-Bryndin had left our corridor and wouldn't be coming back, I examined Anti-Bryndin's drink. I was underage for legal soda consumption, and only permitted desserts such as chocolates in small samples (which I… may have possibly fibbed about when asking the tender at the table to fill my plate for "my mother"). However, Anti-Bryndin's drink was half gone, and a little sip wasn't liable to hurt me. It looked as though it might be orange cream soda. I sniffed it. I sniffed again. Hm? Eyebrows raised, I tasted the drink, and then chuckled darkly to myself.

 _"Orange juice._  Why, this isn't soda at all! I should have predicted as much. Anti-Bryndin, you old rascal." Pretending to participate in the festivities when really he was one step ahead of all of us at keeping sober. The oldest trick in the Anti-Fairy handbook. Well, I hoped Shamaiin enjoyed himself. I rather suspected he'd just lost to Anti-Bryndin in a drinking contest.

Noon and I soon found ourselves wandering up to the second floor of the Castle. My plate was nearly empty. I was just considering whether I ought to make an attempt at wheedling tasty snickerdoodles heavy on the cinnamon out of the sugarbartender or whether I should simply retire to roost for the night while I could still float in a straight line, when to my surprise I spotted Anti-Robin at the end of the next hall.

Yes, that was my brother- I was sure of it. Why, we hadn't seen each other since our last encounter at Anti-Fergus' place ended so poorly. I hovered for a moment as I watched them. They sat on a cushioned bench beneath a half-curtained window with a young, pretty damsel in their lap, apparently wooing her and succeeding too. I couldn't make out their soft voice from where I was, even with my Anti-Fairy ears, but they appeared to be enjoying themself immensely. She leaned against their chest, playing with something new around their neck. It appeared to be a necklace consisting of beads, and it looked suspiciously like a…

 _Oh, now_ this  _I have to hear._

I was at their side before I'd processed what I was doing, knowing Noon was staring at me curiously, but unable to stop myself in time to make proper introductions. Both they and the damsel looked up in clear annoyance when I interrupted their little display, but I clenched my plate in one hand and refused to back down.

"Hello, Anti-Robin," I said, keeping as much of the tightness out of my voice as I could muster. "It's pleasant to see your face around here again. I was just beginning to miss it."

Anti-Robin shrugged. "Granddad A-Anti-Gonzo brought me. H-he's around."

"Granddad Anti-Gonzo?" He was my father's father, and I'd only seen him a handful of times in my life. Always busy, that fellow, chasing after the most outrageous, grandiose ideas an anti-fairy could think up. I shook my head, and focused at the bigger question on my mind. I smiled. "I say, that's a lovely lime-coloured necklace you've got about your neck, darling. It has beads and everything."

Anti-Robin picked up the small pendant on the end and looked at it as though seeing it for the first time. It had a small, white rabbit painted across its front. "Mmhm." They allowed it to slither through their fingers again, and their companion of the evening returned to plucking at it.

"Of course," I said slowly as though this thought had only just occurred to me, "by my recollections of Anti-Fairy social convention, there is only one reason why you would be wearing a beaded necklace such as this one. And that would only be if you've gone and kiff-tied with a minor nature spirit."

They nodded. There was a honeywheat roll on the floating platter beside them, and they took a bite out of it without saying anything further. I arched one eyebrow above my monocle.

"Well? Come, come. Spill all the juicy bits for your baby brother now, won't you? I say, you've certainly moved up in the world. Look at you. Hardly over 150,000 and already a medium to one of the lesser-known spirits of the world. An oxygen spirit, by the colour and the rabbit on that favour you wear. Just if I were to venture an educated guess. I  _am_  educated, you recall."

"August." Anti-Robin replaced the roll on their platter and snuggled more deeply into the pillows on the cushioned seat. "I visited the S-Seasonal Temple on Plane 3 j-just two months ago, and he appeared a-and asked me to take it."

"I suppose that goes without saying. He's your namesake, after all. No wonder he would favour you enough to grant you his, well… favour. I say, August always was said to be a dashing daredevil." I shook my head. Partly in disbelief, and partly in… Well, no, it was still mostly disbelief. "Congratulations, old boy. So you're August's medium to the mortal planes now. Never thought I'd see the day."

Behind me, Noon cleared his throat with a soft cough. He pressed his knee lightly against my back. The message rang out clear:  _Easy. Stay calm._  I glanced at him irritably, but smoothed my fur and shifted aside so he had room to hover. He smiled and stretched his hand past me.

"Good evening. I'm Noon Anti-Sundive of the Anti-Sundive colony. Year of Sky. I'm Julius' roommate at Frederick Shinesworth. Are you their older brother? They've always spoken very fondly of you."

Anti-Robin stared scornfully at Noon's downturned hand. "I don't return the s-s-sentiment."

I glared at them. But, never one to be deterred, Noon said, "I assure you, they love you very much," and rerouted his attention to the damsel in my brother's lap. "And you are, dame?"

She slipped her hand beneath his, giving him a warm smile. "Anti-Rose. Leaves year, Anti-Dewlink colony."

"And how did you meet Anti-Robin, pray tell?" I asked, gripping my plate.

"Oh," she purred, "I only met him here tonight."

The fact that she referred to Anti-Robin as "him" instead of "them" did not escape me. Briefly, I entertained the thought of outing them as an anti-fairy whose soul had tangled with a nature spirit even before they'd kiff-tied with August, then didn't. Not tonight. I simply couldn't be bothered.

Noon appeared determined to make unnecessary conversation with my brother and their evening fling, but I couldn't stand it much longer. So I whispered that I needed to find a balcony and take in the fresh air. He flicked an ear in reply. With that, I drifted on through the nearest corridor in silence, scratching behind my neck. Suddenly, I wasn't hungry anymore.

Long ago, long before my imprisonment in Liloei's lamp, I'd hypothesised with Mona that the key to unlocking the mystery of Anti-Fairy reproduction perhaps lay with the nature spirits. I'd snuggled up to sleep once when I was young, fully believing that within my lifetime I'd visit July in the Seasonal Temple and convince her to appear before me. She was my namesake after all, so perhaps she would appear if I called out to her. If I understood the way that nature spirits bonded, I might crack the mystery I'd been struggling with all my life once and for all.

Alas! Those hopeful days of my youth were gone from me. My recent centuries of work and research always ended the same. Genie magic? Boudacian genetics? Nature spirits?  _Luz malas?_  The material sciences? Dead ends, dead ends, dead ends. I was mentally exhausted, losing faith and losing energy. Oh, there must be a way for Anti-Fairies to breed beyond their reliance on Fairy counterparts, there  _must_  be… But I had read perhaps every text in existence that could help me. And I was growing weary of my own endless games.

"Julius," called a boisterous voice then, and I looked up, anticipating Tumble or one of the other drakes in the Castle who was just beginning to come into his deep adulthood voice. Instantly my ears snapped to attention. Ah, I knew who that was, spreading his arms for me! I stuffed two more strips of chocolate bark into my mouth with the flat of my hand, threw my plate aside without care, and raced towards him as fast as my wings could take me. Laughing, spurting crumbs I'm sure, I leaped into his embrace. He laughed too and swung me around three times. The flat country hat he wore in place of a crown nearly flew off in the process, I swear.

"Granddad Anti-Gonzo!" I wrapped both my arms around his neck. My legs encircled his torso. "Oh, Anti-Robin said you'd come with them tonight, but I scarcely could believe it. Why, it's been an age since you've strayed near the High South Region in your travels!"

Granddad's hug nearly broke my shoulders. My wings crumpled. I felt the beginnings of strain in my windpipe, which sent instantaneous shrieks of panic across my nerves. They vanished when he loosened his grip and plopped me down on the floor. His massive hand came down on my head and tousled my hair every which way. "Heh heh heh. Ever a sight for tired old eyes and a delight for tired old bones, ain't ya, kiddo?"

"Oh, I do try my hardest. You know how hard I try." I re-scruffed my hair just the way I liked it. "Do take care not to smudge my monocle. It's new, you know. I just replaced my old glasses with it, and I must say, I do adore it immensely."

He gave me two pat-slaps on the back that nearly knocked me to the ground. "That's my Julius, all right. Always the studious grandson. Making way on any of your projects up there at Shinesworth? I want results!"

"Well…" I puffed my cheeks, then let them out again and bowed my head. "To tell you the truth, that's been the least of my priorities at the moment. As it stands now, I'm desperately in need of a job. I've been searching for some time now, but I haven't had the fortune I desire, so that's how it's been around here as of late."

Grandfather spread his arms, then plopped his fists on his waist. "Well, what in the name of Tarrow's gums are you doing stuffed up in here, then? Don't you know there's a chocolate factory down the road that could use a strong pair of legs and working hands like yours?"

"What do you mean?"

"Sugarslew Chocolate Factory in Luna's Landing!" He practically exploded when he announced its name. "Why, I worked there myself up until a few centuries ago. Most fulfilling job you'll ever have in your life. Yessiree, me and the good lads used to check the cocoa wasn't contaminated, watched it so it melted instead of burned, and kick back with a nice side treat to our sodas while we headed home- twirling wands and shooting sparks all the way, a'course."

I blinked at that. "But what about  _Mintwave v. Wandflick?"_  As I recalled, that was the court case which had ruled it illegal to practice magic while under the influence of far too much sugar. Even Anti-Fairies had to follow that.

At that, Grandfather spat on the floor. He threw his flat hat to the ground and brought his foot down on top of it.  _"Mintwave v. Wandflick? Mintwave v. Wandflick?_ Boy, you want to talk to me about  _Mintwave v. Wandflick?_  That ruddy court rule is discriminatory to our peoples, always trying to subject Anti-Fairies to Fairy laws. I say,  _Mintwave v. Wandflick_ is a plague to this world, and one of these days!" He clapped sharply. "One of these days, I'll put a stop to it all myself, I will! Sue the pants off them all!"

"Okay, Granddad," I laughed.

He gave me directions to the chocolate factory and a few last words of advice, and we parted with a hug. He even slipped me a truffle and two sugar straws he'd decided not to eat, white chocolate all the way through. Oh, I was chuckling as I wandered along down one of the corridors in search of a room to relieve myself that wasn't already in use.

"Ha ha! Well, Tarrow is really smiling upon me tonight, I should say. I've got a fair chance at a job now. Finally, after all this time. Nothing, and I truly mean it, could possibly ruin my mood now!"

I turned the corner grinning, and felt my ears instantly go flat.  _What?_  My teeth clenched. Who invited  _her?_  I pulled my fistfuls of chocolate to my chest and looked  _Emery what-is-she-even-doing-here Whimsifinado,_ of all Fairies, up and down. I knew it was her, because she hadn't changed a bit since I'd glimpsed her on my way home from the Eros Nest; she'd left Wish Fixers along with her father just as I'd arrived to question him about Anti-Robin. She kept her hair short and black, speckled white on top, and I imagined she stuck out just as much in Fairy World as she did here because of it; it would seem that despite the cheerful values of her culture, she wasn't much for colourful fashion. She wore her usual dull purple jumper, with those same old enormous green earrings dangling from her ears. I swallowed the rest of my truffle and covered my mouth with my hand.

"Oh. My, my. Emery, how lovely it is to see you again. By which, of course, I mean that I know your father sent you here to pester me about something or another, so go ahead and get on with it."

She couldn't have found a more annoying posture to greet me in if she'd tried. Actually, she likely had tried. She must have been standing there all evening, simply waiting for me to float close enough to bother. She leaned against one of the Castle's columns with her elbow, her other hand resting in the stomach pocket of her jumper. Her eyes were slitted and smirky in a very knowing way, and her thin lips twisted up at both ends. She didn't move even when I greeted her. Which was a shame. Anyone else was liable to spring back and shush me, unwilling to be the Fairy foolish enough to draw attention to themselves in Anti-Fairy World. Emery, however… Well, she was Emery, and she flaunted it.

"Glad I caught you, Julius," she said, bringing two fingers near her brow and away again in some silly salute. "What's the story? I know I wasn't invited to this party, but amazing things can happen when you have a dad who can write you border passes any time you want one."

Of course. The orange card around her neck. I closed my eyes for three seconds, wondering whether I should turn and speedwalk back to Noon, then opened them again. "I must apologise. I'm confused. Why are you here? How did you reach the second floor of the Blue Castle without getting thrown out on the stoop? What is even happening?"

Emery's smile faded. Her eyes darted back and forth, back and forth, in a very exaggerated way. She straightened up, slowly, sliding her arm into her jumper pocket to join the first. "It's about your D3, Jules. Is there a place we could step out to talk in private, just for a sec? I won't keep you from your party long."

It seemed to me it was a violation of my privacy for Ambrosine to tell his daughter anything about my alleged  _divus_  displacement disorder, but I was too speechless for a moment to bring that up. In parallel to hers, my own eyes slid between her face and the path that would lead me to the nearest dessert table.

And yet… _Errrrgh._  I had another weakness even greater than white chocolate, and that was my hopeless curiosity. I was rubbish at ignoring it. And so, I brought another sugar straw to my mouth and chewed through it as I led Emery along the corridor in search of a balcony that wasn't already occupied with a sugared-up couple kissing and cooing over one another. She meandered along more slowly than I would have liked, her eyes drinking in the portraits on the other wall.

"Whole lot of semi-familiar faces up there," she observed.

"Of course," I said, fighting to keep the irritation from my voice. "This corridor here and the next comprise the Castle's Anti-Holotype Hall, a reflection of the very passage that can be found in the Eros Nest if one knows where to look. Each of those portraits up there depicts a holotype, or the first member of their race to be classified as a new subspecies altogether. On the Anti-Fairy side of things, of course. I imagine you would be most interested in Anti-Finella Anti-Sunbeam. She was the first common anti-fairy to ever be studied in detail, and of course the namesake of what you Fairies call the Finella reflex today. Cold shoulder syndrome, it's more commonly known in Anti-Fairy World. Something about a Fairy's inborn and nigh-irresistible instinct to kill his counterpart, or some rubbish like that. I don't believe it myself."

She stopped in front of the second to last painting on the wall and tilted back her head. "Who's this cute hunk up here?"

I'd reached the end of the corridor, where Anti-Ilisa's portrait hung, but I turned on my heel and faced her again, tapping my foot above the ground. "Anti-Ky Anti-Braddocki, of course. The first of the anti-brownies. He always hated the Anti-Braddocki name, you know. He actually used a different family name, but Anti-Braddocki is the name he was classified under regardless, just to make things easier on the history texts. You can blame the Fairies for that."

Emery took note of my long nose, then peered back up at the portrait. "So he's one of your ancestors, then?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. On my father's side. Shows, doesn't it now?"

Once more she glanced at me, but this time her eyes lifted to the painting above my crown. Her absentminded expression cracked into a grin. She raised her fingers to form a box, positioning me right in the middle of it. "Don't move a muscle. Oh, this is  _gold._  Okay, Jules. Take a moment to notice how you're standing, and then turn around and look up. Really, I'm not kidding. You and that dame behind you are soulmates right now. You two both have your arms folded and your shoulders hunched forward, but you're doing the exact opposite head tilt. You both look ticked off to be here. Ha ha. You sure you aren't related to her instead? You've got the same pointy cheekbones."

"I am most certainly not," I snapped, dropping my arms at once. "And I have the pedigree charts available at a swish of a wand to prove it." I took a step closer to her, stupidly expecting her to meet me halfway like an Anti-Fairy would. Instead, Emery raised her hands and drifted away.

"Okay, okay."

Recognising the cultural difference between us too late, I snorted and turned my back. "Well, if you would ever so kindly come along, I can show you a portrait of who I'm really descended from."

"Right, right, I'm coming." She said it in a puzzled way as I led her not back along Anti-Holotype Hall, but through another corridor where the light was brighter and the dust was thinner. The portraits in this hall were much, much smaller, because there were so many more of them to fit in. We passed dozens of them before I stopped at the one hanging across from Her Glory Laelaps.

"There." I waved my hand to indicate the masterpiece. "Now  _that_ , darling, is Her Glory Cadmea."

Emery stared up in silence for a moment before she asked the expected question: "How can you be descended from a big blue fox? I didn't think Anti-Fairies could breed with animals."

I suppressed my sigh. Typical Fairies. Did they always have to be so literal? "As Fairies came from dust and Refracts came from mist, Anti-Fairies came from smoke. In ancient times, there were no Fairies, Refracts, or Anti-Fairies, but only Domestic Fae, Trooping Fae, and Solitary Fae. The Domestic Fae worked the fields, and the Trooping Fae hunted and gathered afar. The Solitary Fae took the forms of the early animals on our home planet, and it was only later that they began to mimic the bodies and faces of those whom they lived with. Her Glory Cadmea was the first of my mother's family line to take on solid shape."

As anticipated, I watched her nose crinkle up. "But what about our ancestors Splitting apart from the Aos Sí?"

"The Aos Sí existed, it is true, but Fairies alone are their only descendants today. Fairies, Anti-Fairies, and the Refracted share no common ancestors but the ground itself. Three counterparts did not Split from a single being, as you folk who place your faith in Daoism believe. There's no such thing, and frankly it's quite silly to believe such stories, if you ask my opinion on the matter. Why, the only reason we Anti-Fairies teach our children the Daoist concept of Splitting is to give them context for their arguments against people like you."

"I'm descended from Ezekiel Whimsifinado," Emery protested. "The  _original_  Whimsifinado. My family line has kept our surname since the days of the Aos Sí, and we know Whimsifinado Split to become three Ezekiel counterparts. There are written records. Are you following me? Written. Records. Wait a second- Aren't you Anti-Fairies completely obsessed with Jay Rhoswen because he's the one who tried to mate with Anti-Shylinda and gave her the first pair of coloured eyes? He wrote about Splitting in his famous journal." Her brow furrowed. "Yeah, the one where he used the names Fairies, Refracts, and Anti-Fairies for the first time. He was there to watch Shylinda Split in the first place. How do you rectify that?"

"Jay Rhoswen was a drake of many poetic metaphors and his journal is not to be taken literally," I told her calmly. "A little background research will turn up the proper mindset one should have when they read its pages. It's poetry, luv. Sheer poetry." Raising my voice, I went on with, "The Anti-Lunifly family have honoured our ancestor Her Glory Cadmea since the dawn of time as we know it, taking no other form to shapeshift but hers until this very day." I thought that pinning my hands over my ears and chanting "La la la la, I'm not listening to you" would have been too much.

Emery rolled her eyes, but dropped an argument she obviously recognised she couldn't win. "All right. So… if your mom's line come from the fox dame, which animal are you descended from on your dad's side of the family?"

I turned my head, my ears and shoulders sinking. Without words, I pointed with my nose at another portrait a few frames down on the opposite wall. Emery followed my gaze. There, strong and silent, hung His Glory Perez, the lord of the rats. "Ah," she said, sizing him up with care. "I get the picture. He's cute in that scrawny egghead way, but given the choice, I'd take being stuck with the fox form over the rat any day."

"I'm not technically 'stuck' with it. Since I can prove my lineage and my father's line, it would be socially acceptable for me to abandon the Anti-Lunifly family name and grace myself with the Anti-Cosma one instead. Though it's a switch that may be made only once."

Emery cringed. "Sympathy wince for the one who has to manage Anti-Fairy paperwork if you're over here changing your names all the time." She looked up again, skimming her eyes along the row. "So… you've really never taken any shape except a fox's before? Not an inanimate object, not a cat, not anything?"

"I'd be disowned and tossed out in disgrace if I so much as tried," I said. The fur prickled down the back of my neck with memories of Serentip's smelly streets that I'd rather forget. I twisted on my heel and floated off. "Come along now. We're hardly two wingbeats away from the place I had in mind." There was certainly no way I planned to stand about discussing the  _Fairy_  interpretation of my mental state in one of the Castle's most frequented halls. I had my pride.

"Nifty."

At last finding a balcony that wasn't occupied, I drew the translucent curtains aside for Emery. "Here. We won't be bothered, or at least not in theory. But, if someone with authority demands to know why I'm out here making nice with a Fairy, then I make no promises I'll protect you from their anger. That privilege is extended only to cordially invited guests, and you are not exactly one of those tonight."

"Relax, Jules. I'm not even going to sap five minutes of your time." She glided past me, whistling in approval as she admired the view. I dropped the curtain and followed her. Emery leaned her hands against the balcony rail and inhaled loudly through her nose. Her shoulders lifted. It made her wings thrum (Odd pale brown wings with flat ends, reminiscent of Ambrosine's damefriend's, if I recalled correctly). "Ahhh," she sighed. "Good old Hy-Brasilian air."

I folded my arms on the railing beside her, gazing over the mountains on this side of the Castle. A thin stream of lava trickled down it in the distance, visible in a glow of fiery red. "Yes, it is rather pleasant out tonight, isn't it? Long way to fly from your tiny town of Novakiin, so I do hope you  _poof_ ed. I say, now what's all this about my D3?"

Emery turned and propped her elbow up behind her, scratching her nose. She had a few light freckles dusting her face right around there. Only six, so nowhere near as impressive as a gyne's amount, but I arched a brow at the sight of them nonetheless. "So…? How have your pheromone treatments been lately?"

I eyeballed her in silence, my muscles tensing near the shoulders. In all honesty, it had been a long time since I'd painted any pheromones across my face. Anti-Elina had eventually slipped up in her attempts to treat me with them three times each week, and I'd faded into the background as a result. But what I said to Emery was, "Well enough."

"Smelling good?"

"They're not exactly to my tastes, but they seem to perform the function they're meant to. I haven't suffered an extreme mood swing in ages."

Emery pointed her finger at my eyes and swung her arm. "Ah, but it sounds like their quality isn't up to the standards you'd like them to be. What would you say if I could fix that by sliding you some pheromones that were fifty times better?"

"Fifty?"

She flapped her hand. "Somewhere around there. It's hard to put a number to these things. Just know that I'm selling you a great offer."

"I'm listening," I said, somewhat puzzled. Emery was speaking like a salesdame now. Ambrosine must have sent her to check up on me, and perhaps try to score a little extra cash from the High Count and Countess in the process, but I couldn't imagine what product they considered so important, they felt it warranted a trip straight into the heart of Anti-Fairy World like this one. Particularly when I was already one of their customers. For the sake of business, shouldn't they instead be focusing their energy on those who were presently being treated by their rival companies?

Emery had a smile on her face that just wouldn't quit. It was a smile I wasn't entirely sure I liked on her. She brought her hands together before her like a boat, or a fish, and tipped them forward. Her wings buzzed with poorly-restrained glee. "A little rabbit told me that you imprinted on my brother's pheromones when you were about eight years old."

My eyes closed. "I… question Ambrosine's reasons for imparting that knowledge onto you."

"I said 'little rabbit.'"

"Ambrosine always loved rabbits, even back when he still had a stutter."

"I'm taking your obvious reluctance as enthusiasm." Emery made a celebratory popping motion with her hands. "Well, guess what? My brother Fergus? After almost 300,000 years of wandering Earth, he's back in town. Just moved in with me and Dad again. No joke."

"Oh," I said. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I hadn't thought about Fairy-Fergus for some time now. Sure, I'd just met his green-furred counterpart, and of course it's scientifically impossible for an Anti-Fairy to forget anything, but my father's notes felt like a distant memory. And, I daresay that getting to know Ambrosine had turned me off somewhat to the idea of meeting my once-beloved childhood hero, too. I know the influence a family casts over its fruits.

"Now, check this out. It took me months of creeping around to collect this much, but I brought samples."

"You what?" When I realised what she was implying, my eyes widened. "Wait. From Fergus? In- in secret? Are you mad?"

"Maaaybe. But who's your favourite damsel now?" Emery removed a single bottle of pheromones from her pocket, popped the lid with her thumb, and lifted it to her face. She gave the sticky liquid inside a swirl as though she were peering into a scrying bowl. "Mm, yeah. Smell that… really sweaty… stuff. It's good, right? Here, you try."

"What in blazes would I want with that?" I asked, trying to slide away.

"Ah ah ah ah ah," she scolded, bringing me towards her with her hand just beneath my wings. Her skin was uncomfortably warm. She'd grown so much taller than I was, and that made the experience all the more unpleasant. Still, she held the pheromones closer to my nose. "Here."

Once again suppressing a sigh, I gave the bottle a dutiful sniff or two. I was an Anti-Fairy, of course, with a memory even sharper than my claws. I'd never forgotten what Fergus smelled like, all cinnamon and bananas. This smell was… different, somehow than the smell of the census card in Principal Winkleglint's office long ago. I mean, that was undeniably Fergus. Even I could tell that, and I was an anti-fairy who favoured sounds over scents. Frowning, I traced my tongue across my lips. Yes. That was Fergus' old smell. Only different, like buttered caviar. The scent was deeper than before, stickier… It smelled very grown up, although I couldn't put my claw on why exactly I thought that. It was just that something about it tasted… more  _enticing_  on the roof of my mouth than the pheromones lingering around any of my gyne peers at Frederick Shinesworth.

Not enticing enough. We waited a moment, my waist still wrapped in Emery's unsolicited arm, before I said, "This isn't doing anything for me."

"Really?" Emery appeared honestly taken aback. She looked at the bottle in her hand, then at me again. After picking up the fallen lid, she replaced it with a twist. "Okay, I'll be frank. I fully expected you to be doing flips for this. I mean, you're supposed to have a drone fairy's brain, right? And you were supposed to have imprinted on my brother's pheromones or something, right? Shouldn't that mean you want them? I mean, what's with you?"

I shook my head and uncrossed my arms. "Look here. While your motives were selfish, I appreciate the sentiment. It is rather nice that you remembered me and my condition even though your race as a whole is known for having fairly poor memories. But the truth is, deep down in my little black heart, I am an Anti-Fairy through and through. You are a creature of the insects, and I am one of the bats. My people have no use for scent markers just as yours have no use for identifying sweeping calls. So thank you kindly, by which I mean, I don't particularly thank you for this at all. I don't need what you're selling, I don't want what you're selling, and I certainly won't buy any of it. I haven't painted pheromones on my face in years, and look how well I'm doing for myself."

"… Huh," was the only word that left her mouth for a little while. Emery replaced the pheromone bottle in her jumper pocket. She looked more thoughtful than irritated, but I still didn't like the look of it on her.

"Face it, darling." I readjusted my monocle with two claws this time. "I'm not exactly a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body, nor have I ever been one. The cause of my mood condition stems from the fact that my mind became tangled up with that of a lightning spirit in my youth. My temperament ebbs and flow with the seasons.  _Not_  because I've gone too long without slobbering over some old bloke's sweaty neck, you know what I mean?"

"Thank you for your time," she murmured. "You know,  _divus_ displacement disorder isn't well-studied. I appreciate all the insights you can provide."

"And I'm quite happy to provide them. But I would immensely appreciate it if you and your father would both stop assuming that you know me better than I know myself."

She spread her wings and left from the balcony. I took it upon myself to escort her all the way to the rubble of the old Anti-Eros tower, and she found her way back to the Barrier from there. That was that.

Before October ended, I heeded Granddad's counsel and visited the Sugarslew Chocolate Factory in Luna's Landing in the hopes of applying there for work. It went surprisingly well, actually. I greeted the employer of the place (Anti-Jared) personally, for he insisted on interviewing me himself. Anti-Jared dressed sharply, in a blue suit with a spiderweb tie that made me long for something nice on my chest, too. He led me into his office: A pleasant little back room decorated after the inside of a marshmallow, with enormously plush white chairs around the desk and little else in the way of decorations. The formalities were exchanged, and my interview began.

With his critical gaze taking note of the way I sat (back straight, wings folded), Anti-Jared made the sharp roof of a Fairy World building with his fingers. He leaned his chin against it. "Now then, Julius. Here at Sugarslew, we desire one thing above all else. Can you guess what that is?"

I sent a quick, silent prayer to Sunnie for support. "Intelligence?"

"A sense of community. When the workers don't get along, the chocolate doesn't get along. It's my job not to let in anyone who I'm not convinced is going to get along with the other workers. I'd have to tell them to get along home, you get me?"

"I see."

Anti-Jared smiled. It was a sly smile, like one that a card dealer might show just before he pulled a fast one over your head. Warily, I pricked my ears. "Now," he said, "to prove your worth, you must answer me a very important question. Get it?"

I nodded. "I've got it, sir."

"Then riddle me this. What song are you liable to sing on the job? Everybody has one. I'd like to hear what sort of music you prefer, and what makes your favourite song to sing your favourite to sing aloud, if you get my meaning."

For a moment, my mind went blank. That wasn't at all the interview question I'd been expecting. My heels tapped together. "Uh… Well, that is to say, I don't suppose I ever thought about it until now, but I'm quite partial to  _Lepidopteritus_  myself. It originates from Fairy World, and the first time I ever heard it was on a long tram ride to the Barrier following my pilgrimage to the Water Temple. It can ofttimes be a spot nerve-wracking when you're the only anti-fairy in your tramcar far from home, so I suppose the song has become rather comforting to me. It's quite the lively tune, and excellent for brightening a day with a jaunty spot of fun, ah, you know what I mean?"

Anti-Jared looked mystified. "I don't recall ever hearing that one before. How does it go?"

"Well…" I ran my shoe across the tile. "It's like this, if you give me a moment to recall… Mm. All right. Ah, so." I cleared my throat, and closed my eyes.  _"I met a lovely lady just south of Serentip. Said she didn't know my face just 'cuz she hadn't met me yet. Her hair lit like fire and she glowed just like the sun_ … _"_

"All right, all right." Anti-Jared shushed me with a bouncing hand. "That's enough, kid. I get it, I get it."

Abruptly, I stopped and stared at him. My muscles tightened. Truthfully, I wasn't anywhere close to being the greatest singer (My fairy counterpart Cosmo, I seriously suspected, was the one with that talent between the two of us). It was a struggle to keep my ears up and forward in a confident position, when all I really wanted to do was curl into a ball and crawl beneath the desk.

Anti-Jared eyeballed me for a moment, and then grinned. He reached all the way across his desk to clap me on the shoulder. "You're in, kid."

My eyes flew wide. "You mean I've got the job? Just like that?"

"You got it, all right. Get me a copy of your school schedule so we can figure out where to put you, and you've got yourself a deal."

"All right indeed!"

It turned out that Anti-Jared was correct. In the first few years of my time working at Sugarslew, I found myself singing  _Lepidopteritus_  an awful lot. I just couldn't seem to resist such a catchy tune. I would be working the mixing station some days, twirling on my toes as I whisper-sang the chorus in an endless loop. In fact, come one bright and early Wednesday morning in the Summer of the Crashing Pine, I was doing just that as I stretched my fingers up for my measuring cups and the jug of castor oil on their high shelf. Since I was alone in the mixing room on my shift today, I'd even dared to slip my tail over the waistband of my trousers. It dangled behind me, ticking back and forth like a metronome. I lifted onto my toes as my humming turned to words.

_"Better kiss lots of damsels, kiss lots of drakes, because you never know when this journey that you take will end… That's advice from 'lisa Maddington."_

"Anti-Lunifly!"

I jolted. My hands went instantly for my tail, and I spun around, clutching the oil jug behind my back. Anti-Jared floated towards me, clucking his tongue as he shook his head.

"And what do you think you're doing over here?"

"J-just mixing up the cocoa, sir."

He crossed his arms and settled on the metal platform where I stood. Obediently, I stepped forward until his chin hovered just above mine, to the point that it nearly dug in. Anti-Jared examined my bowed head and passively low-bobbing crown. When he unfolded his arms, he said, "Well, get ready to put a stop to that. We've got a VIP on the wing headed this way as we speak, and you're about to give him the tour of a lifetime around the factory."

I pulled back and blinked. "Me? Why is that?"

"Because you're the one I'm asking now. That, and you're a Water year. He's a Soil. Waters and Soils are a natural match made on Plane 23, and by that logic, as a Fire year myself, I'd prefer to stay out of this. So, let's get a move on." His gaze swept back and forth with the edge of a slicing knife. "And at least try to keep your tail in your pants, boy. It isn't just indecent, but it's also a health hazard. I don't want to be tasting the fur from your nasty rear end in my chocolates. Get it?"

"Yes, sir," I squeaked, flushing once again.

"You better have got it. Next slip I see from you is the one that gets you fired, get?"

I nodded. He left on foot, his boots clanking over metal. Once he was gone, I went back to work. This time with my tail crammed away, even though it was terribly uncomfortable.

Sigh.

Who, me? Somehow manage to wow a VIP with a stunning tour on short notice when I barely knew the way around the factory myself? This was ridiculous, but what was I to do?

After a few minutes more of measuring out the castor oil and dribbling it down into the swirling vat, I set my things aside, turned my gaze to Plane 23, and squeezed my eyes shut. My hands came together in front of my chest.

"Please, Dayfry. I call now upon your Love. Keep me in Anti-Jared's good graces. I need a win right now. Mona is counting on me to gain the funds and leadership experience necessary to provide for a small colony that we expect to quickly grow, and I still have Lohai to provide for, too. This business is so harsh and cold. Please, if you can hear me… if it doesn't contradict your father's plans for me… send me a lifelong friend. Someone stable and predictable I'll always know I can rely on, even in the toughest of times. I say, I could really use a chum like that right about now."

My plea abruptly ended when a tiny hand grabbed the bottom of my wing and yanked. I yelped and twirled around, flapping wildly to keep my balance lest I plunge into the vat of scalding hot chocolate below. What in the name of smoke? How had a  _child_  gotten inside the factory?

My gaze fell on a tiny half-breed fairy hovering at my feet. Though as I rounded on him, he sprang back and grabbed the leg of the drake who must have been his father. "Sanderson," snapped the older fairy. He rapped a knuckle against the younger one's flat, squarish head. In fact, I noticed as I looked at them, they both had distinctive square faces, all hard lines and solid jaws (Black hair too, identically tufted in two peaks at the front). "What do we say?"

"Um. I can pay for that?"

"Exactly." So saying, the drake settled his wings to a slower beat and turned his expectant gaze on me. Instantly, I let go of my cross feelings regarding the fact that they had walked all the way up the bridge to my platform to startle me. I realised that I knew exactly who he was. Behind the thick glasses, his eyes were lavender. He was rather large for a fairy. Not in von Strangle terms by any means, but certainly large. Though, I thought him only half as colourful as one might expect a fairy to be. True, the vest he wore was cherry-coloured, but it was a dull and deep maroon sort of cherry colour. Bright red-brown freckles sprinkled his nose and lay like pollen across his cheeks. Beneath them, his skin was pale. Paler than most Fairies, I privately thought. Almost grey. A thin cowlick spiralled in a swirl from the back of his head, low behind his ears.

Worlds collided at the very sight of him. I actually inhaled, raising two fingers to my lips. Yes, I knew him. I truly did, absolutely. That vest. That face. Those burning eyes. The low tang of cinnamon in the air, stronger here and now than I'd ever smelled before.  _Sticky, like caviar._  Automatically, I brushed my other hand down the front of my apron. Oh, all right. So despite my firm insistence to Emery that he meant nothing to me at all, perhaps I had longed to meet the bloke face to face at last, after all these many years. Just for the sake of closure. I tried not to be obvious about it if I quickly licked my lips.

"Oh my stars. Why, I'm honoured. Am I correct in presuming you are the important guest whom we've all been expecting?"

"Yes. Yes you are." The fairy started to extend his right hand, then switched to his left. Good smoke, his hand was enormous. My entire hand, talons included, fit in his mere palm. I accepted his gesture lightly, and fought the urge to cringe when he crushed my fingers. I'm sure he didn't mean to. He shook my arm up and down as though trying to loose a hidden wand from my sleeve. "Fergus Whimsifinado."

I'd thought as much, but hearing him confirm it, I really imagined I might faint in his arms. "Oh! You're  _the_  Fergus Whimsifinado?"

One of his dark eyebrows went up. Just one. He released me and folded his arm behind his back, business-like and proper. "I suppose I am."

Oh my smoke, oh my smoke, oh my smoke. Was this real? Ahaha! Ohh, how I loved it! My old hero, hovering before me in the flesh. I ran my hand over my hair, fighting to smooth its inevitable scruffiness. His dull eyes tracked my movement.

"Call me Mr. Whimsifinado, actually. The Fergus name has unpleasant connotations attached to it these days."

He used  _Mr_. instead of  _Drk_. I flinched very slightly at the implication, my mouth twisting at the corner. This would take some getting used to. But all right. Mr. Whimsifinado he would be, then. I suppose that if I were his age, I wouldn't want a strange juvenile casually referring to me by my first name either. I clasped his hand in both of mine, biting back my shrieks of elation. "Why, it's an incredible pleasure to meet you, drake. It really is. Welcome to the Sugarslew Chocolate Factory. I'm Julius."

Mr. Whimsifinado gave me a calculating look that, to the very bat of his eyelashes after his pause, reminded me piercingly of Ambrosine. The dust certainly didn't fall far from the wings in their case. He tilted up his chin. "No. What's your real name?"

I blinked. If he'd been anyone else in the universe, I think I might have been horribly insulted. "I beg your pardon?" After all, Julius  _was_  my real name, so what exactly did he mean by that?

"Your anti-name. What is it?"

His dry, commanding tone left me hesitant. Truth be told, that was an extremely derogatory question. I mean… wasn't it? Maybe it wasn't anymore, and no one had told me. A tiny part of me was offended. These nasty Fairies were always squeezing every last drop of our culture away from us. But he was  _the Fergus Whimsifinado_. So I carefully said, "It's Anti-Cosmo. Although as I'm sure you're aware, I'm not supposed to use my adult name until after my coming of age ceremony when I'm 150,000. I have a long ways yet to go."

He nodded once. Short. "See, that's the name I was looking for. It's good to meet you, Anti-Cosmo."

"I… see." My fingers clenched into fists behind my back. _Let it go, Julius. It's just one incident. He doesn't mean any ill will. Don't make unnecessary waves. Be a good portrayal of a modern and refined Anti-Fairy. Don't dwell too much on the way he expects you to address him the way he said, and yet can't extend the courtesy to us…_ "Well, Mr. Whimsifinado, we're pleased to have you paying us a visit here at Sugarslew. It's my understanding that I am to lead you and your… son? on a tour of the place, hm?"

He had a son now. I mean, of  _course_  he should be allowed to have a son. The man had to be nearly 500,000 years old by this point, bordering on menopause, and this would fit with the crying pup I'd heard in Anti-Fergus' house when last I'd visited. But still, the concept blew me away. My childhood hero, all grown up with offspring of his own. Well, well, well.

"Who? Oh." Mr. Whimsifinado spared the child a disgruntled glance. "Yeah. Him. No, no. He's definitely not my son. This is my uncontrollable blockhead of a nephew, Mister Sanderson. His first name actually is Mister."

My face chilled a hint when he said that last word. "O-oh. Mister, you say?"

"Yes."

How… curious. As I recalled, 'Mister' was a title used in the gyne/drone community to  _specifically_  identify those engaged in the most committed partnerships, who were absolutely uninterested in trading off their drones to other gynes or taking on new ones. Vis versa, the title was used by drones fiercely devoted to their gynes. 'Mr.' was a familiar rather than a formal business term. Favouring 'Mr.' instead of 'Drk.' as your honorary signified a gyne's total willingness to fight to the death to maintain possession of the drones under his care. So knowing all that, 'Mister' made a curious first name for obvious reasons. I mean, who names their child after a cultural belief they may not desire to hold to by the time they reach adulthood? That was the Fairy equivalent of me naming my daughter Beira.

Nonetheless, I maintained my composure, and tilted my head to give it special thought. "Hmm. Would that happen to be the conjugated  _sera_  form for 'to bring' in Vatajasa? 'He who brought mist with him'? Or perhaps 'He who was born on a cold, wet day'?"

Mr. Whimsifinado placed both hands to his waist and looked his nephew up and down, while Mister hugged his leg more tightly. "It's actually closer to the Milesian translation, 'The way ahead of me looks ridiculous and there's no way I'm dealing with this today,' but you're close. I'm glad you tried to figure that out, Anti-Cosmo. You get me. Everyone else just looks at me like I'm a freak when they hear."

Oh, so it wasn't just me, then. I glanced down at Mister, who had bent his wing around his front and begun sucking on the apex. It was interesting. You know, he looked far more like his uncle than he looked like Emery. I didn't recall seeing a wedding band on her finger during that Patrons' Day visit, either. "I'm terribly sorry. My condolences for your family."

Mr. Whimsifinado's eyes sharpened. "Family?"

"For your sister's health." I watched his puzzled face, and scratched behind my neck with my wand. "Er, I just assumed by your comment about the reactions of 'everyone you introduce him to' that you take Mister here around Fairy World with you often. I thought perhaps his father was unwell. I knew it must be his mother who is your sibling and not his father, because of his species. He's a fairy, and so… Erm. Never mind."

How exactly  _had_  Mister been born when there was supposed to be a mandate against the birth of fairy children anyway?

"Oh." His face relaxed again. "You're very perceptive, Anti-Cosmo. Not sure I would have made that jump in logic." He looked down at Mister and gave a shake of his leg- a half-hearted and unsuccessful attempt to dislodge the clingy nymph. "Well. I'm a gyne who, I must admit, is rising up in the world. The child has been promised to me as my future alpha retinue drone (Sanderson, get off me). Hmph. He's job shadowing and he likes attention. Just ignore him. He'll let go when he wants to."

I chuckled at the sight of them. "Well, you two certainly look alike."

"Do we?" Mr. Whimsifinado continued to stare at Mister, brow furrowing more with every passing wingbeat. "Hm. Nope. Don't see it."

"… Right." My eyes slid to the nymph, who hadn't moved apart from sliding his wing from his mouth and flapping it instead. It made a circular motion in the air. "Well now, aren't you a pretty bloke down there?" I dropped to one knee and offered my little finger for him to grasp. "What's your zodiac, tiny friend?"

Mister tightened his grip on Mr. Whimsifinado's leg, blinking owlishly into my eyes. "Spring of the Charged Waters."

I couldn't resist grinning. "I say! I'm a Water myself, you know. Summer of the Black Lake." So saying, I showed him my hand so he could study the turquoise ring glinting against my knuckle. Mister didn't smile or make any movement towards the shiny object with his chubby fingers. Even when I tried to coax him. My grin slipped into a frown.  _Strange kid_ , I thought, but resisted the urge to blurt it out in front of Mr. Whimsifinado. Instead, I stood and grasped my forearms behind my back. "Well? Shall we begin that tour?"

Mr. Whimsifinado inclined his head. "Let's. Please lead the way."

The way up to my metal platform was guarded by a rickety bridge of clumsy wooden beams, spread across a deep, dark gap between the vats that dropped all the way to the floor. The bridge had been set up ages ago for any factory workers who didn't have wings, which was somewhat funny since we didn't have any of those at the moment. Not since Sugarslew had fallen into Anti-Fairy hands. The small factory lay in our capital city, after all, so it was only logical its employees should all be Anti-Fairies. In fact, I doubted even Anti-Jared could remember the last Seelie Courter who had wandered the place. Only Anti-Fairies, Anti-Fairies, and more Anti-Fairies.

I told all of this to Mr. Whimsifinado, exaggerating the history of the building here and there to make it sound more rich than it actually was. "Hmm," he said, not sounding particularly impressed. I wondered why he'd even come.

We floated into another room, and I gestured up at the great five-roller machine, raising my voice above the noise. "You see, once upon a time, we enjoyed cocoa only as a drink. In more recent millennia, however, chocolate chips and bars have become a staple of dessert tables across the cloudlands. Chocolate begins its life as a bean from a cacao tree down on Earth, which we process into something we call 'cocoa liquor.' This liquor is then divided into its two components, one being a solid state and the other a sort of 'cocoa butter.' My personal favourite chocolate is white chocolate, which doesn't include any of these 'cocoa solids' at all. Quite delicious, it really is. Can't stand the richer stuff. Do you have a favourite chocolate, sir?"

Mr. Whimsifinado considered for a moment, eyeballing the machines with the first spark of interest I'd seen since his arrival. "Yes. Anything flavoured with orange."

"Oh, we do have a wonderful selection in the box my co-workers and I just opened in the break room this morning. I'll be certain to make a stop there once we conclude our tour. And perhaps after that, I can find you some samples of our divinity candies. Have you ever tried divinity before?"

From behind us, there came a sudden explosion of desperate chirping noises. Mr. Whimsifinado broke off his thanks to chirp over his shoulder in reply. He stopped walking and turned back the way we had come. I turned with him. Together, we waited a few seconds until Mister flew around the corner in search of us, hands outstretched. I almost gasped. I could hardly help myself. His tiny hands just looked so, well…  _tiny!_ He caught the hem of his uncle's cherry-coloured vest and buried his face in deep.

"So," Mr. Whimsifinado said to me, floating forward again. After patting his nephew's head, he slid Mister's fingers away one by one. "Tell me when and how this factory was built."

"Oh, it's quite fascinating, really. You see, everything is powered by thermal energy from the magma river that flows beneath the soil. Before the war, Luna's Landing was but a small valley town with little to its name but the Love Temple and the library, for Anti-Fairies really had no need for the government buildings we have here now. It was only after the Sunset Divide that development turned the place into an urban wonderland." I paused, and while I watched him watch the conching machines, I casually asked, "Did any of your relatives fight in the war?"

Mr. Whimsifinado reached down to Mister and scratched him on the head. His eyes continued following the liquid chocolate as it flowed across the rollers. "Yes. My father was the only one of his siblings who survived it. He resisted enlistment at first in order to look after me, but the draft brought him in after the first few years. I lived with my foster parents for nearly three decades until the war ended."

That surprised me. One of my vaguer memories from my eight-year-old self was a passing comment Ambrosine had made about a "Gidget and Reuben," who had indeed raised his son during the war as Mr. Whimsifinado said. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now the comment puzzled me. "I say! He was drafted now, was he? And with a nymph to look after, too?" The Anti-Fairies hadn't called parents of young pups to join in the fighting, and our newborns were even more capable of looking after themselves than Fairy children were! For the first time in my life, I was beginning to understand why my people had lost the war. Why, there must have been a third more of their soldiers than there were ours at any one time. "What of your mother?"

"I never knew her."

"Oh." I tilted my head. That was… strange news, considering that Emery existed. Could those two possibly be half-siblings? Funny. That went against all the preachings of lifelong monogamy I'd heard the common fairy subspecies held to. I'd met Ambrosine's damefriend once. Did that mean Mona and I had caught him redhanded in the act of serial monogamy? Hm. If I knew anything about fairies, he was liable to be shunned forever were he found out; Seelie Courters were a puzzling lot. "And you lost all your aunts and uncles in the war, too?"

Mr. Whimsifinado nodded and began to count them off on his fingers. "Adrina. Amalia. Ara. Alik."

When he said  _Alik_ , a sharp pain split across my forehead. My right wing felt unbearably heavy. My legs threatened to give way. I hissed and leaned forward, grabbing the rail that divided us from the conching machines for support. The world around me blurred into darkness, then snapped into full colour again. Mr. Whimsifinado studied me with a dull emotion that almost tried to pass for surprise. He leaned one hand against the rail too, and set the other against his waist.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm fine," I muttered, digging the heel of my hand into my forehead. I squeezed my eyelids tighter. "Clarice just jumped, that's all."

"Who's Clarice?" he asked, sounding half-bored and as though he were forcing conversation only for the sake of politeness. He tended to speak in a monotone way, I'd noticed, and this was no exception.

"Clarice is my…" I pressed my fingers to my temple. Now I faced a predicament. Engage the son of my disbelieving therapist in a discussion about Anti-Fairy culture, or tell Anti-Jared's VIP that I was afflicted by a mental condition and might, depending on his interpretation of it, be considered unwell?

I sighed and looked up at him. "This may sound strange, but when I was born, my lifesmoke became intertwined with the essence of a nature spirit. She sort of… lives in my head now. I've never known her to have a conscious sense of self or react strongly to much of anything before, except once when she was reluctant to step undercloud, but it would seem that something's set her off." I glanced about the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary. No. Just the two fairies. Did that mean Mr. Whimsifinado's list was the thing that bothered her so? How very curious indeed.

Mr. Whimsifinado brought his fist against his lips. He looked me up and down. "I think my father might have mentioned you. Do you know Wish Fixers?"

"Yes, dear Doctor Ambrosine has worked with me before," I admitted, with more than a little tentativeness.

"Then I hope he's been able to help you with your Clarice problem so far." He made a flat line motion with his hand. "Because I know literally nothing about mind and magic therapy myself."

I found that difficult to believe, but I nodded anyway.

Our tour continued. I showed Mr. Whimsifinado each of the machines, and he asked questions about every one without fail. I was still wracking my brain, trying to understand why Anti-Jared had invited him here, but the only possibility that came to mind was the thought that Mr. Whimsifinado must have a great deal of money he was willing to invest somewhere, and he had chosen to look into our company.

On our way to the break room, Mr. Whimsifinado caught me off guard when he began to ask questions about me, and my personal life. I began by reiterating my youth, and mentioning that my mother had named me after the nature spirit July, in the hopes of encouraging Mr. Whimsifinado to refer to me as Julius instead of by my adult name. I told him some about Mona, and about my Fairy World schooling. That snagged his interest like nothing else had yet. The schooling, I mean. Yes, I confessed, the school I presently attended was small, but I was determined to get into the Fairy Academy sometime after I turned 150,000.

"I'll be the first Anti-Fairy to graduate there since the Barrier went up. I've studied art for centuries at Frederick Shinesworth Lower School, but I'm actually planning to earn my Academy degree in genie studies. I've met a couple of genies, you know. Some of my dearest friends are genies. Now  _that's_  a long story to be told, ahaha. Well, what about you then, hm? Where did you go to school? With the name Whimsifinado, I'm sure you were able to get in anywhere you chose."

"I enrolled at the Academy," he said. "I studied Fairy law."

I blinked and turned to shoot him a frankly puzzled look. "Oh." I hadn't expected Ambrosine's precious firstborn to waste his years pursuing something so useless that paid so little. I began to realise why he must have moved in with his father and Emery again.

Mr. Whimsifinado eyeballed me without amusement. "Law may be 'Oh' to you, Anti-Cosmo, but that would make us even. Genies are 'Oh' to me."

"Yes, yes, of course. I meant no offense, you must understand." I floated a little faster, glad at least that he hadn't mocked me for hoping to graduate with an Academy degree one of these days. He may not hold enough respect for me and my people to truly understand our culture, but at least he granted me my dreams in peace.

The sample box of chocolates lay open on the break room table, just where I knew I'd find it. Mister's eyes widened when he saw them, and he looked pleadingly back at his uncle. Out of habit, I rinsed my hands in the washing bucket on the counter, then grabbed the rag and wiped them dry.

"Well, enough about me. My boss mentioned you're a Soil, aren't you? I haven't visited Twis' Temple in the quaint little town of Mudhale since I watched it collapse, but I've heard it's in the Lower East Region. A bit silly if you ask me, since the Robe from there is Teal and really that's where you'd expect the Water Temple to be instead of in the Purple Robe's region of Central Star, but of course, it was the Temples that were here first, and the names of our Regions and their associated colours long after that. We couldn't have the Robes wearing all zodiac colours if that zodiac isn't theirs, and it's certainly for the best that the two most prominent temples of Love and Breath are the ones positioned nearest the Divide gate, you know what I mean? Luna's Landing and Godscress, you know. But, I digress, ahaha. Enough about me, I said. Is it difficult to make the pilgrimage to the Lower East from Fairy World now that the Barrier is up? How often do you go?"

Mr. Whimsifinado raised one eyebrow. "Did your boss also tell you I'm Daoist? I.E. not Zodii?"

I jolted. The rag dropped from my hands to the floor. Mercifully, I managed to withhold the squeaking sound on the tip of my tongue. "Oh," I said instead, taking one step towards him. "Oh. I shouldn't have assumed."

"No moult off my wings. Let's move past it." He leaned over the table, arms still folded behind him. "Here, Sanderson. Come pick a chocolate to try. And tell Anti-Cosmo that you're grateful."

Mister hopped onto the chair, braced his arms, and surveyed his options. "How many can I take?"

"Just one."

"What if I have one for me and then you give me yours?"

"What if I give you two wing twistings every time you misbehave?"

Mister shook his head. He scrutinized the box with care, then pointed to a pleasant ball with a simple dash across its top. Mr. Whimsifinado gave it to him, and took a chocolate with an O that meant orange for himself.

"Would you care for some fresh milk?" I asked them, trying not to squeak.

They did. Mister had never had icy cold milk from Anti-Fairy World before, and he glugged it down with both hands around his glass, his head tilted all the way back. As for Mr. Whimsifinado and myself, we drank from mugs. I tapped my claws against the ceramic sides, then looked up. "You know, if you're ever looking for someone to explain the Zodii teachings, I would be happy to oblige."

"Anti-Cosmo, I'm content in my beliefs."

"Yes, yes, of course," I murmured, getting up to rinse out my empty cup. "I'm quite fine being Zodii myself."

"Makes sense," he muttered into his mug as he took another sip. "I wouldn't want to be Daoist either if my crown were as low as yours."

The cup dropped from my hand and shattered into a dozen pieces on the hard floor. My wings snapped forward, then back. I spun around, my jaw sagging open.  _"Excuse me what was that?"_

He lowered his mug, revealing a clean upper lip without a hint of milk across it. "I didn't say anything."

All I could do was gape at the back of his head when he turned back to Mister, my offended hand pressed against my chest. Had he really just-? I mean, I didn't even know how to respond to-  _What?_

"Mr. Whimsifinado?" One of my co-workers, Flake by name, appeared around the edge of the break room door. He smiled uncertainly at me, flicking his gaze at the broken ceramic on the ground. "Anti-Jared will see you now."

Mr. Whimsifinado handed his mug to me and followed Flake out. As he passed Mister, he placed his hand over his little square head in a pat and said, "Stay with Anti-Cosmo, Sanderson. I'm only a contact call away."

I was too speechless to protest. Mister turned to watch his uncle leave, and continued staring at the door for several seconds as their wingbeats drew away. The moment Mr. Whimsifinado's aura left the reach of his Fairy senses (I presumed), Mister turned his huge eyes on me again. All right. So I was nymphsitting now. Oh, Anti-Jared had better pay me well for this. Another few seconds passed in silence. Then Mister darted out his hand and grabbed another chocolate from the box.

"That's enough," I said, taking the box away from him. I closed it up and placed it on a high cupboard shelf. "You can have that last chocolate you've got there, but no more after that."

"Why didn't you have a chocolate?" Mister asked me.

I shut the cupboard and locked it with a tap of my wand. "I only like white chocolate, and I'm afraid there weren't any of those in our sample box today."

"Can I have your chocolate and this chocolate?"

"No. Two is  _more_  than enough for a child your size. We wouldn't want you to become sugarloaded, now would we?"

Mister sighed. "Okay. Can I have more milk?"

"If you ask politely for it. Politeness is a virtue, after all."

There was a pause. Then, with obvious reluctance, he muttered, "I want some more, please."

"Yes, I'd be happy to give you some more. Thank you for asking so politely." I fetched his cup and poured him a refill of sweet, cold milk. When I turned around, he wasn't at the table anymore. I pretended to be surprised, even though I'd heard the buzz of his wings when he'd flown over to the cabinet where I'd locked the chocolate box. He was straining at its door now, but try as he might, he couldn't fight his way past my magic. I put his milk on the table beside his other chocolate.

"You're quite fast, aren't you, child? I admire your uncle for keeping up with you." With that, I picked him up with my hands clamped around his middle, and returned him to his seat. Mister accepted this change with an unhappy  _f_ _rump._ He looked to his left.

"Where's my milk?" he asked.

"It's right there in front of you."

He looked back and forth, then at me again. "Where?"

I pointed to his other side. Mister stared at the spot I indicated, then at me again. He was starting to become visibly upset. It was only when I walked over, picked up his glass, gave it a little shake, and set it in his hand that he seemed to realise it was there. He blinked, then drank it all. I stood back, mulling over that detail. An old memory stirred in the back of my mind, of a young anti-fairy struggling on an intelligence test long ago. What was it Ambrosine had told me then? Something very peculiar about his son not realising it when someone changed the position of objects behind him when he looked the other way… something about change blindness, or perhaps selective attention resulting from too much direct focus…

"Julius?"

Breaking from my thoughts, I turned to see Flake in the doorway again, eyeing Mister with obvious distaste. "Yes?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "How was the tour?"

"Oh… It was what it was. He wasn't nearly as critical about the place as I expected him to be, although he certainly asked a lot of very odd questions. Do you know what brought him out here, or why Anti-Jared is meeting with him?"

"I was hoping you did."

"No. Ooh, but did you  _hear_  what the man said to me just before you came in here to fetch him?" I knew my voice had risen in pitch, but I couldn't help myself. "'I wouldn't want to be Daoist either if my crown were as low as yours?'"

Flake's eyes widened. He was on me in an instant, running his hands along my arms as I twitched and trembled. "Did he really?"

"Yes! He did! How dare he comment on my lift like that? In public too! Why was he even looking?" I forced myself to lower my shout at last. Flake had pressed himself against me and quietly backed me into the frame of the door. My wings could no longer snap up and down in rapid rage then, and I felt my blood cooling down. My teeth clenched a little less. Even so, I scowled. "And what's worse is that he wasn't even looking when he said it, which means he probably looked when he first came in and then remembered. I don't go around checking out other people's lifts. Who does that? Oooh!" I clenched my fists. "I wish I would have noticed his."

Flake snickered into his sleeve and pressed even closer. "Can you even see the top of his head from down there?"

"Oh, pipe down, you miserable crumpet." I stuffed my hands into my pockets and glanced crossly away. "Well, what's  _your_ lift?"

"Nine proud centimetres. Ten on a good day."

My eye twitched. "Really?"

Pulling back at last now that I had calmed down again, he flicked the underside of his crown with his thumb. "Hey, born on a Friday in a Love year. Double trouble. What do you expect?"

"Hm." I shook my head and turned to watch Mister drink his milk again. Only… he was gone. Completely gone. I looked all around the break room, but he had disappeared. Flake realised what was going on and spun around with me. No sign of Mister in the corridor behind us, either. He whistled one long, low note.

"You weren't kidding. That's one fast nymph."

"Good smoke, I'm fired." I shot down the hallway, firing little pings of echolocation and struggling not to call his name, lest Mr. Whimsifinado or Anti-Jared overhear and come to twist my ear about it. It was harder to resist shouting than it looks, really. I searched up and down, peering over railings and even down into the depths of the factory. It was actually Flake who found him, standing on the metal platform where he and Mr. Whimsifinado had first bumped into me.

"Good smoke, get down from there!" I shouted, flying towards him. "That chocolate is boiling hot!" Not to mention caffeine in abundance was as good as pesticide to any Fairy.

My mistake was in screeching. Mister hadn't heard my wingbeats, and my sudden cry startled him into jumping forward. My claws missed him by centimetres. I watched, open-mouthed, as he plunged. Without even thinking, I dove into the vat after him.

Stupid mistake. Mister caught himself in mid-air, beating his wings, but it didn't stop me from splashing his face when my body fell past him and hit the chocolate.

Pain shot instantly across my everything. I writhed, spitting and flailing about. I may have been a Water year, but no one had ever taught me how to swim. My clawing only dragged me deeper.

All was brown. Closing in around me, smothering and choking me. Burning me. Mud, mud, mud, and I couldn't even stand up. No, no,  _no!_  My foggy brain tried to direct me upward as I sank, but I think I ended up turned around. Was I heading towards freedom, or only swimming deeper? The panic set in. I was going to die. Die here, buried alive, unable to fly again. Buried again, buried again! I screamed for rescue with all I had, but no one came.

No one… came… so I gave up… trying.

I bolted upright, coughing and choking on dry air. When I looked about, I wasn't drowning in chocolate. Chips of wood cascaded from my legs. Each of my limbs glowed bright blue. Turquoise, I suppose. Oh, bother. Had I always had this many limbs? I grabbed my shoulders and hunkered up in a tiny ball.

I sat alone in a small room that looked far too much like a cage to be coincidence. It had bars, and the world beyond them was dark and black. As I studied the place, the tension in my body began to ease. This was the same world I'd seen the last time I regenerated, back in the Breath Temple. In that case, I was likely fine. Just fine.

Assuming I ever awoke from regeneration again. Anti-Bryndin had warned Mona and I that an Anti-Fairy devoured by a great glider snake with inrita in its stomach acid would likely never make it back to the living world again. Might the same fate befall me in the chocolate vat? I had no idea.

I was alone within the cage. The nearest bars weren't very far from where I sat now. I crawled through the wood chips to reach them, mostly on my stomach. My knees struggled to hold my weight. The bars were too close together for me to squeeze through, at least while I retained this solid form. For a moment, I held very still, and blinked out in confusion at the world beyond my prison.

I was being held within a larger room. Much, much larger. The distant walls were white, and everything was big around me, as though I were as small as a rat. The light was dim, and I saw strange things in a way that involved neither my eyes nor my ears as I knew them… One door. Enormous bookshelves. More tasselled cushions than any one person could possibly use. Which possibly explained why there were two people in this room.

Er… "People" might be a misnomer, though I wouldn't want to be the one to tell them that to their faces. I think they were little more than children, although conceptualizing them was surprisingly… tricky. They were enormous, like the children of giants. Naked, although with their skin smooth and freckled like starry skies, it somehow didn't matter. They both had rather androgynous body shapes, and both had long and flowing hair that made it that much harder to tell what gender they might be.

They were both so odd, I hardly knew which one to focus my attention on first. I listened to their voices for a moment, and determined that the one on my left, who wore strange covers over her pointed ears and bobbed her head in time with the beat of music that she alone could hear, seemed to consider herself a damsel. The one on the right, lying on his stomach and reading long scrolls, seemed to think he was a drake. They were speaking to each other, not to me, and bantering in the way that siblings do. He had skin as pale blue-green as crystal dewdrops upon the morning grass, and wild black hair thick with shooting stars. Golden cuffs encircled his wrists, connected to chains that wound away somewhere I couldn't see. His face bore scars in careful patterns as though they'd been cut into his skin deliberately. She was as white as freshly fallen snow, with only one large, brown eye in the centre of her face. And she had crab claws for hands, which was  _not what I was expecting at all._

Nature spirits. That's what they had to be, of course. The scarred, blue-green one I didn't recognise. The damsel was more interesting. If she was a nature spirit and her patron was a crab, then that meant she had to be a mud spirit. That in turn made her a daughter of Sunnie and Twis. I pressed my face against the side of my cage, wrapping my hands around the cold bars. It almost seemed too much to hope for, but…

… Might I be staring down at Beira? The young spirit who had given the cloudlands solid form long ago?

My suspicions were concerned hardly a blink of an eye later. "Beira," hollered a damseline voice from somewhere beyond the door. "Did you finish cleaning your Temple?"

"Yes, Auntie!" Beira shouted back. She stuck her tongue out at the drake lying on the cushions and gave her single eye an exaggerated roll. "Can you believe she's doing this again? She's not even my real mom."

"You don't have a mom," said the drake, unrolling another scroll. Beira kicked it shut.

"Don't even start with me, Feb. You're one to talk."

I jumped. Aha! He was February, son of Sunnie and Thurmondo, and the reason why we considered Late Winter to be the end of our calendar. I should have guessed. After all, he was a spirit of dew. It wasn't as though there were many of them around.

February shoved her with his foot, pushing Beira's jaw higher and higher until she was forced to lean back. His legs were shaped very oddly, like those of a frog. "Would you cut that out? Too much Sunnie is seeping into your personality again, and that is not what I came here for today."

Beira smiled at him with faux sweetness. "Here's a flash of news for you: I  _am_  Sunnie."

February wrinkled his nose. "So am I, but you don't see me letting it overtake the personality I chose for myself."

"I could try to be a little more like Twis, but I'd have a hard time keeping my face so stiff and grumpy."

All of a sudden, February shot upright and whipped around. His dark hair fluttered around his ears. "What's that noise?"

I froze among the wood chips, but it didn't stop him from staring at me. He lifted one long finger to point my way.

"Beira. Look. It's the Water soul inside your cage. It's finally waking up."

Beira took off her ear covers and turned around. "Huh?"

February rolled off his cushions and walked (feet slapping about) over to my cage. He brought his face right up against mine. I shrank back, but not far. February examined my cage's lid, and managed to unlatch it before Beira joined him.

"I think Munn gave me this old set-up," she said, clacking her crab claw hands. "He stole it from Sunnie's room once, but I can't remember why."

"Who cares? It's awake. I want to look at it." February reached at me through the hole. Since his squishy frog hands terrified me less than Beira's, I relented. He cupped my belly as he lifted me out, leaving me lying flat on my stomach. My arms and legs dangled below.

Beira watched him carry me over to the cushions where he had been reading. He sort of flopped with every step he took. She rubbed behind her neck. "You've seen souls before. Why are you so interested in this one?"

"I dunno." February set me on the ground and then crouched beside me. "Why did Sunnie keep it locked up by itself before Munn stole it?"

"Hey, you're an aspect of Sunnie's consciousness mixed up with Thurmondo's and given your own free will. If you've got their memories, shouldn't you already know?"

"Well, so are you, basically. Shouldn't  _you_  know?"

Beira stood there, clicking her hands open and shut. "The Sunnie part of me doesn't know. I think the Twis part might. I think Twis put it in there."

I struggled to stand, only for my legs to give out beneath me. I tried again. And again. February even offered me his thumb to hold onto, but it wasn't enough. Imagine that. I, a mere lowly anti-fairy, touched the hand of a nature spirit! He was a minor spirit, and terribly unimportant, but he was a spirit nonetheless.

"Why can't it walk?" Beira asked, kneeling on my other side.

"I think it's sick. Maybe it was in quarantine."

Beira said something that I could only half hear. My vision blurred with smoke and liquid. I collapsed against February's hand, and when I woke up, I was lying on my stomach in the very same position. Only I was in my full Anti-Cosmo form again, lying on the metal platform beside the vat of boiling chocolate where I'd fallen. Hm. Evidently, my smoke had gotten smart and, after a few failed attempts to reform down there, withdrawn to a more stable location to put me together again. Regardless, sweltering sores scarred my back. I could feel the crease of every one of them. Oof. I doubted I would lose those nasty blisters until my  _next_  regeneration.

When I opened my good eye, I found Mister standing above me, sucking on the ball of chocolate he'd taken from the sample box. He waved when he saw me looking at him. Flake floated nearby, his hands scarred to the elbows. Oh. He must have dragged my half-formed body up here. Groaning, I pushed myself partly up. My arms shook horrendously. I was still slathered in hot liquid, and most of my fur felt as though it had burned away. When I shook my head, my ears flopped about my face. I pushed up my bangs (or what was left of them) and fixed Mister with a solid glare.

"Don't. Do that. Again."

"You smell like chocolate now," was all he said in reply.

Mr. Whimsifinado showed actual traces of emotion when he left Anti-Jared's office in the end. I was still a fuming, wretched mess, clutching Mister in my arms since I refused to let him out of my sight again. Flake had rinsed Mister down while I'd spent several moments regenerating, so at least stray splashes of chocolate hadn't seared his skin. Even so, Mr. Whimsifinado appraised the child's every visible part, licking all of him with his rasping tongue. Mister didn't seem to mind this, and even told the story of his adventure through the chocolate factory while his uncle preened him clean. It was not a very long story, and suffice to say was hardly accurate at all. I stayed nearby the entire time, silent as a scorched shadow, my arms very tightly crossed. Yes, I did wait for Mr. Whimsifinado to apologise. I waited in vain.

"You have to keep very close watch on nymphs at this age," he told me.

 _"You-"_  I began. It was the only word I got out. Instantly, Flake launched himself forward and brought his body between me and Mr. Whimsifinado. I didn't get my fangs put away fast enough, so he used all his mass to push me against the wall. It wasn't as though he weighed a lot, thanks in part to the helium gasket in his head, but he was bigger than I was. So I shut up, and surrendered myself to sulk in silence.

Anti-Jared was the only one who pitied me. Of course the chocolate had been lost, and we had to drain it all and sterilise everything. Yet, I was permitted to keep my job. For now.

The company was sold a week later. Mr. Whimsifinado bought us out all on his own.

I really didn't know what to expect at my first company meeting under my new boss, but it most definitely wasn't what happened. Anti-Jackson greeted us all, and announced that Mr. Whimsifinado had purchased the Sugarslew factory in order to end its days of chocolate making completely, and use the machines found here to produce the medicine that Wish Fixers bestowed upon its clients. Chocolate, for medicine! Can you even believe it? Pity we hadn't been informed  _before_  we'd just spent our resources refilling the vat I'd fallen in.

I promptly quit my job the following day. Mother was as furious as expected, bemoaning me a deadbeat and saying all sorts of horrid things. Likewise, some of my peers in the Castle (Winslow, Teresa, and Prickle especially) couldn't believe their ears when they heard the news. They protested. They berated. They whined about their misfortune of no longer wheedling free samples out of me (as though that were  _my_  fault). They flattered and coaxed and nuzzled up to me as best as they were able to.

But I could not be swayed. Medicine or chocolate, I'd have quit either way. Mr. Whimsifinado had horrendously injured my pride more than once. Until my ragged fur grew in again, I had the horrid burn scars to prove it. You see, I have my pride. That's very important to me. If there was one thing in the universe I absolutely couldn't stand, it was having to live and work in the service of someone I didn't even like.

That was one fun fact about me which would never change.


	19. Frost Bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter parallels the Origin of the Pixies chapter "Allowances."

_In which Julius wraps up his schooling at Frederick Shinesworth in the Year of the Tall Cedar, and begins plotting out his next course of action_

* * *

Frederick Shinesworth campus stayed eerily deserted throughout the second month of the Autumn of the Tall Cedar. The communal washrooms were never busy. Distracted teachers ended classes by as early as half an hour almost every day. In fact, Noon and I met up at the local cider shop to work on our group presentation for Recent History with an imp dame named Shelli Marmot, and we practically had the entire place for ourselves. Only one lone fairy lingered on a bar stool far from our booth. While Noon lay out the craft supplies for our poster board, I clutched my warm mug against my chest and gazed through the shop's front window. Every passing smudge shuffled by quickly, never speaking to anyone where some stranger might overhear. Mostly they were damsels, I think. I took another long sip of cider.

"Hmm. No matter which way the Blue Robe falls, tomorrow is certainly going to be interesting up here, you know what I mean?"

Shelli bit into her spiral pastry. "Why, what's tomorrow?"

Noon and I glanced at her in shock. He set his ink bottle down, clearing his throat. "The Fairy Council votes on  _Waterberry v. Reddinski_  this afternoon."

Embarrassed recognition crossed her face. "Oh," she mumbled. Her antennae curled inward. "That's the follow-up to the  _Canterbury_  case, right? I really don't know much about it. It doesn't really affect me."

At that, I arched my brows. "It affects everyone.  _Canterbury v. Oakwing_  allowed the status of drones to be kept confidential in legal papers, and from the ears of other gynes. Before  _Canterbury_ , all drones were required to dress entirely in brown, and wear a band around their right wrist that matched one worn by the gyne they 'belonged' to. Do you know Eurydice Flitterglitter's most famous painting,  _Genie Lost In the Marketplace?_  It critiques the norms of Fairy society by comparing the physical imprisonment of genies to the social imprisonment of drones."

"Does it?" she mumbled.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I wrote a paper on it once. Anyway,  _Canterbury v. Oakwing_  was merely a very necessary stepping stone in the process to get us where we are today.  _Waterberry v. Reddinski_  will completely end legal discrimination against drones and allow them the chance to speak openly in public for the first time since written history began. No longer will they be required to avoid eye contact with those more dominant than they are. Not to mention, this is the first time since Shamaiin was elected to the Council that he and Mortikor have agreed on anything, so that's news in itself. Jameswin and Tyrano are voting against, of course. No one knows what Cattahan will decide to do."

Shelli twisted her mug back and forth on the table. "Do you really believe drones have been mistreated all this time?"

"I support  _Waterberry,"_  I said, scratching my quill across my parchment. The lantern between us flickered as though in agreement. "It's wrong to expect drones to comply with the societal pressures that have weighed on them all this time. Drones can't even marry, Shelli. Not legally, in the eyes of the Eros Family. Think on that. They're forbidden to hold eye contact, they can't marry, and they can't hold any jobs unless they're directly assisting a supervising gyne. Smoke, I wish I could be there tonight when Anti-Willow interviews that Cosmo Waterberry fellow. If we weren't discussing Ilisa Maddington in Dm. Gillfire's class at that same time, I'd  _poof_ over in a wingbeat. I do so love Anti-Willow… I bought a ticket for it and everything, but, well. You know me. I never can turn down the chance to hear about Ilisa's legacy." I shrugged my wings and took another sip of cider. "The instant that transcript is shared with the Luna's Landing library, I'll be the first to give it a read, believe you me."

Brief silence lapsed over the table.

"Can I ask you both something?" Shelli murmured. Her fingers tightened around her mug. "We Fairies hear lots of… rumours… about the Purple Robe and his relationship with the High Count. Is that why… Do you know if…?"

"Of course not! Why, I am offended!" I slammed my palm down on the table, the force of it blowing Noon's careful stack of parchment slips over the edge. "Shamaiin's values are concrete, and he sticks by them. He always votes according to what's best for society as a whole, no matter how many high-class feathers it ruffles along the way. Anti-Bryndin's friendship could never change his devotion to-"

"Julius," Noon said, touching his knee to mine. My hackles prickled. I turned away with a huff and slumped against the table, arms folded, glaring through the window to the street outside. He pushed his knee harder in warning until I flattened my ears and fell silent. To Shelli, he said, "Anti-Bryndin and Shamaiin have been close friends for thousands of years. Whether or not they allow that relationship to affect their politics is their business, and no one else's."

Shelli squirmed. "I heard they… they… Um. Intimately touched?"

"That's a common misunderstanding." Noon passed her the adhesives for our poster board. "Of course, definitions of 'intimate' vary by the individual."

"Anti-Bryndin has a… jewel on his tongue. He asked the Purple Robe to pick one out for him to wear, at a festival or shop, to prove to everyone they touched…"

"Ohh," I realised, sitting up. "You're thinking of when Anti-Bryndin took Shamaiin's favour. Yes, of course, we all know they share strokes regularly, but that's hardly intimate, you know what I mean? Everyone does it, especially when nobles are involved. It doesn't spread the iris virus, you know."

"Share strokes?"

"Tongue strokes. You know, casual licks down below, very similar to the licks exchanged between gynes and drones on faces and necks. That's all, darling. Anti-Bryndin's and Shamaiin's relationship is merely friendly, I assure you."

Shelli's face turned a literal red tint, her antennae snapping upright, but she didn't say a word for the rest of our project. Back at our dorm, Noon and I shared a soft laugh regarding her embarrassment; typical fairy. Then he settled down at roost while I left to take a shower.

In Fairy World, water ran indoors through a system of pumps and pipes. That was always my favourite part of attending Frederick Shinesworth. Not that my art classes weren't riveting. They were. They were, I assure you. But the fact is, words struggle to capture the wonder of stepping behind a tiny curtain onto soft linoleum tiles, turning a knob, and drawing water from thin air as though by magic. Magic I hadn't even had to study years on end to master, ahaha! Why, I could leave my wand in my bedroom, and  _still_  enjoy a fresh, warm start to my day- no risk of dropping it, losing it, or shorting it out. This was the world we lived in now.

I always made time in my day to bask in the delight of 'showering,' even now that finals year had swept across our dorm. Far too many of my fellow drakes, I'd found, made the choice of skipping hygiene hour in exchange for catching up on their sleep, which always had to be pushed off due to board game night and rambunctious tussling parties the night before. Do recall that 90 and 9% of my peers were Fairies just breaking into puberty, and their overactive sweat glands combined with leftover food, filthy dishes, and unswept floors did not a sweet-smelling environment make. Thank Tarrow for the cold weather on campus, or it should have been even worse. Still, for the sake of your stomachs, I shall not attempt to describe the constant reek. Perhaps it won't surprise you to hear that if ever I sought out fellows to study for exams with, I always favoured groups of damsels. Not that I really needed study groups more than once or twice in some of my more technology-heavy classes, as I am always the smartest person in the room. My infallible memory is practically a curse.

This particular day, however, something rather… unsettling occurred in my assigned communal washroom. I was just stepping from my shower stall in my damp and sticky clothes, trying to juggle my shower caddy, wring out my hair, and keep track of how much fur I was shedding all at the same time, when an unfamiliar voice across the room shouted, "Rain, stop! I don't want to!"

The energy field jolted with the sound of clattering wood blocks and racing hooves. My ears flicked instantly to attention. No matter how distracted by their own tasks they may be, the truth is, an anti-fairy will always be drawn to emotions of discontent. We are colony-oriented creatures, after all. I turned, blinking droplets from my eyes, and spotted two drakes hovering by the tall mirror. The larger one was gangly, tall, and freckled, with a rumpled orange shirt and an upward swirl of lime green hair sweeping from his head. The shorter drake, blue-haired, had him pinned against the wall, his tongue rasping across the freckled drake's neck.

Huh?

Wait. That couldn't be right. That didn't make sense. It was supposed to be abusive gynes who forced themselves on innocent drones, not the other way around.

… Right?

I shook my confusion away and flew across the washroom with my shower caddy still in hand. Whatever their relationship status was, it was obvious the green-haired drake was upset, and the blue-haired one was pushing him past his comfort level. Someone had to step in. I would be that someone. Today, I would not sit idly back like I had when Anti-Wanda crashed on the ice. Not again.

"Let him alone," I called, pulling up beside them. I clamped the drone's upper arm with my hand. "He needs his space. Come now, old sport- can't you see he doesn't want all that?"

Rain ignored me, still licking the green-haired drake's throat while the gyne whimpered uncertainly. I wondered why he didn't simply  _poof_  out of reach, then decided not to judge. Surely he had his reasons, and it wasn't any of my business. Fear could be a paralysing flower.

All right, fine. Perhaps I could communicate with Rain in a language he might understand more easily. I grabbed one of the three bottles of prescription pheromones from my shower caddy and twisted off the lid. This, I held out to Rain.

"Here. You can have these."

 _"Oh,"_ he said, reeling back his head. He gave himself a shake and quickly lost interest in the gyne. I suddenly doubted his self-restraint, but nonetheless passed over the entire bottle. Rain sniffed at it curiously, then poured a heavy pool of liquid into his palm. It dribbled through his fingers. When he brought the goop to his face, his eyes closed, shoulders relaxing. "Mature pheromones…"

He buzzed off with a bemused hum. Hopefully that would keep him distracted for a while. I exhaled in relief. Dusting off my hands, I turned my attention on the taller drake. "There now. Are you all right?"

The skinny drake gaped down at me, apparently stunned into silence. His fists moved to cover his mouth. I gave him a curious look. Behind his hands, his entire face had physically turned deep pink. "I have a type," he finally managed to stammer out, dropping one hand to clench the zipper on his shirt. He lifted one of his legs behind him, pressing his foot against the wall.

I tilted my head, squinting up through my monocle. "Oh dear, look how flushed you are. I'm glad I had the good fortune of being here to step in during your time of need, hm?"

Still gaping at me, still not blinking, the gyne bobbed his head. "I, uh… I'm Mickey. Mickey Peridot."

"Julius Anti-Lunifly," I said, fluffing the back of my hair. I made a face as wet tufts squelched between my fingers. "Charmed to make your acquaintance. I must say, it isn't often one spies a gyne backed against the wall."

"Heh heh," he said, sliding his hand behind his neck. "Nah, Rain's a good guy. It's just that I'm still a little young to actually sweat… I mean, secrete oil… Smoof, that sounds gross. I, uh, I mean, to produce pheromones. He's just a little, uhh… So, um, why do you keep donor pheromones on hand anyway? You're an Anti-Fairy."

I shrugged and held out my shower caddy so he could see the assorted sanitary products stuffed between the soap bottles. "I try to make an effort to support my friends, so I always carry these sorts of things with me wherever I go. I'm a rather anxious person myself, and I wouldn't wish that awkwardness on anyone. By the way, I do love your hair ever so much."

Mickey clapped a hand over his mouth, his freckles disappearing as his pinkness deepened into red. "Th-thank you."

"You know, I've been thinking I might dye mine that colour, actually." I tapped my chin with one claw. "Bright hair isn't exactly the norm in Anti-Fairy society - we're all blacks, blues, silvers, and sunsets, you know - so I could never  _actually_  go through with it… But I've always wanted to. I like green."

"Me too," he said, his eyes the size of moons. "You should definitely go for it if it's something you want."

I cocked my head. "You really think so?"

"Oh, yeah. Be confident in yourself, you know? I mean, dear dust… Not that you need any help in that area right now, haha… I'm sorry. Is your wing all right?"

"I limp on my right side. Always have, even when I was but a pup. I manage myself quite fine, however; don't worry about me."

"Oh. That's good." Mickey glanced at the ceiling and bit deeply into his lip. "Um. I don't know if this is too much too fast, but have you already made plans to hear the  _Waterberry_  ruling tonight? Some friends and I were thinking we might do something, and you're welcome to join us, if you like."

As I wrung stubborn droplets from my hair, I frowned at my reflection in the tall mirror. "Hm. Well. There's a lecture about Ilisa Maddington going on this afternoon in the north building… and of course, we're all awaiting the news on the  _Waterberry_ ruling. After that information comes to light, I plan to retire to my room for the evening and page through the notes I've been composing about my family tree. I'm struggling to determine who I may have reincarnated from, and I really do believe I'm making progress with my research about this Anti-Marcie Anti-Cooperstein."

Mickey flung his arms forward. "Haha, no way! What are the odds? Me too!"

"What?"

"Not the Anti-Marcie thing," he corrected himself, combing his fingers through his hair with the speed of leaping fish. "I meant the Ilisa lecture. I'm planning to attend that too."

I smiled, my wings lifting. I switched my shower caddy to my other hand. "Are you really? Ooh, splendid! I haven't met many Fairies who find her life story as fascinating of a cocktail party topic as I do, you know what I mean? I'm interested in Fairykind reproduction. What are you majorly studying up here?"

"The Geology of Solid Planets," he gushed, kicking up his heels.

"Ah… Erm, what precisely does geology have to do with Ilisa Maddington?"

Mickey blinked, then pedalled backward. "Oh, you know… Ilisa died in the Soil Temple collapse, and I have a thing for caves. Yeah. That's it."

"To each his own," I said with a laugh. I hiked up my caddy. "Very well. I'll see you tonight, then. If you should perchance arrive before I do, save me a seat, hm? Preferably in the front row."

He did, which was terribly nice of him, especially considering how many of our peers would have longed to deny an anti-fairy entrance to their lecture in the first place.

That evening, the five of us (plus Mickey, who apparently knew my roommate Teddy from their small town home of Lau Rell) crowded around the one window in our apartment that faced Frederick Shinesworth's central bell tower. All over campus, other eyes were fixated on that same point. Many couples were picnicking on the quad tonight, or others on the roofs of their dorms. By nature of Fairy social structure, the school principal would hear the verdict of  _Waterberry v. Reddinski_  before any of the rest of us did. She and the other school administrators had agreed to use their wands to light the sky above so all of campus might learn it at the same moment. If the firework they shot up was blue, then Cattahan had cast his vote in Waterberry's favour, and drones would now and forever hold the same legal social status as kabouters, effective immediately. If the firework was red, then… well…

I gripped Mickey's wrist. "You know," I told him softly, gazing up into his scarlet eyes, "besides Jack Waterberry himself, there aren't many gynes who support the vote. I think it's wonderful that there are some who do."

"Drone rights have always been important to me," Mickey insisted, jutting out his chin. "If I have the right to use safe words and deny a drone mid-preen, then a drone should have the same right to deny a gyne."

I gave his hand a squeeze. "I agree with that."

"There it goes," Noon suddenly said, pricking his ears. We all leaned over each other, practically dangling out our window, desperate to see what colour would shatter the sky above-

Blue.

Successive fireworks burst around the first one-  _Blue, blue, blue._ As the bells doled out the news and screams filled the air, we all laughed, cried, and hugged one another fiercely. Together, we grabbed our snacks and joined our fellows racing through the halls, cheering at the tops of our voices. Everyone had their wands, and went about hurling blue sparkles in all directions. Oh, now  _that_  was the kind of historic occasion I couldn't wait to brag to my pups about!

… You know. Assuming I ever had pups of my own someday.

The following morning, still bundled together up at roost, Noon yawned and tucked his chin against the top of my head. His arms shifted beneath my wings. "Mm… In all the chaos, did you hear Kato's moving out tomorrow? We're getting a new roommate."

I cracked open my eyelids unhappily and glared into his chest fur. He didn't have to explain what he meant, and I didn't have to ask. A new roommate meant an awkward next few weeks. It meant explanations and stunned sideways glances. It meant no longer being safe.

Sure enough, only three days after our roommate had settled in, Noon and I found ourselves seated on the battered dorm sofa, each of us balancing a mug of milk in our hands, as we formally explained the ground rules to the fidgety satyr sitting across from us. Freddy, his name was. Terribly similar name to our other roommate Teddy, but that wasn't my fault.

"Anti-Fairies sleep in colonies," Noon told him patiently, doing a  _much_  better job at keeping his temper than I would in his position. He kept one hand wrapped around my knee. "Every single day, Anti-Fairies all across the cloudlands practice what we know as 'bundling.' That's what we call it when two or more Anti-Fairies cluster tightly together and wrap their wings around one another for warmth. Julius and I sleep like this every night. We often bundle during the day too when we take a moment to rest. Our bundling custom is entirely non-romantic, and I hope the sight of us doesn't cause you any embarrassment."

"So you aren't courting," Freddy clarified, sounding unsure. His fingers plucked at the collar of fluff around his neck.

"We're just roommates, just as we are with you," Noon said simply. "You Fairies have beds and blankets to stay warm. We have roosts and bundling."

"Believe me," I added, rolling my eyes, "I once went a month where I slept alone without ever bundling. Never, ever do that in the freezing temperatures of Anti-Fairy World. My legs were stricken with frostbite that all too soon turned to gangrene. I had to be taken to the Breath Temple before they could heal. Whether you like it or not, Noon and I  _will_  be bundling together. It's literally why I was assigned to be his roommate in the first place. Yes, it is a cuddle, and yes, you Fairies may be taught to interpret it as a deeper connection than it is, but the truth is, your opinion doesn't really matter to us."

Noon nudged my ankle with his foot and tightened his claws against my thigh. "The fact is, you could pick any two Anti-Fairies in the universe and lock them in the same room, and by nature, they would gravitate to roost together. Holding one another in our sleep is just instinctive."

"It's true. Why, I can hardly stand a few of my nastier colonymates back home, but there isn't a single one I wouldn't bundle with if they were my only option. We might spit fiery insults at each other one moment, and cuddle each other close the next. It's perfectly natural."

Freddy nodded and balanced his cup on one knee.

Despite our first-day conversation, I could sense that our close proximity bothered him on a constant basis. I often saw that twitchy satyr jump when he first entered a room and noticed Noon and I resting quietly from one corner of the ceiling, me clinging sleepily to his chest and Noon with his arms wrapped beneath my wings. The fact that we ensured we were always dressed didn't seem to make any difference in his mind.

It's curious. For some strange reason, despite the fact that my people regularly scatter bad luck throughout the universe, or that we regularly preach the reality of reincarnation over the Daoist tradition of Splitting from a single form, the most difficult part of our culture for Fairies to swallow, infallibly, is the sociosexual aspect. It could be something as simple as a press of the lower bodies, clothing on and everything, but from the way the Fairies react, you'd think we'd been caught mid-murder. Once, I accidentally spilled a bottle of Noon's most expensive vanilla extract. His mouth fell open in despair. Oops! I hurtled across the kitchen in my scramble to apologise, flattening him to the front door and whimpering into his chest. He shoved me off in clear irritation, so I sighed and lifted the hem of his shirt. Freddy, Teddy, and Rander were all in the room at the time, and all flipped their crowns when I put out my tongue. It was two awkward minutes before they finally excused themselves and locked the door behind them.  _Please!_ Oh, I'm certain everyone who knew us gossiped constantly, but they never spoke a judgemental word within our earshot. Hmph. I was grateful for that, at least.

"You don't see me taunting drones for cuddling up to gynes," I muttered to Noon once, glaring at my reflection as I picked my bristlebrush between my fangs. "Come now, you can't really believe there aren't sexual undertones we could poke fun at in their culture. Smoke, some of these gents wouldn't last a day over the border. Honestly, why the fuss? A thousand animal cultures are sociosexual. Boudacian culture is sociosexual. Succubus culture is sociosexual. Will o' the wisp culture is sociosexual in its own way, and be _lieve_  me, I know. For smoke's sake, we're  _bats._  What does he expect of us?  _Monogamy?"_

Noon shook his head and poked at one of the pimples breaking through the fur on his cheek. "Some people would just prefer not to hear the details."

"It's our culture, and I  _won't_  censor it!"

"Fairy values are just… different than ours." Noon tilted back his head and let out a soft sigh. "We're a polygynandrous people. We are. It's ingrained in our natures; just ask the Eros family. But remember, the Fairies have a right to their own culture too, so you can't really blame them for being startled. Personally, I think they get so lost in admiring our art and architecture that sometimes, they forget we were never designed to be their role models."

"That's precisely my point. We're not Fairies! My  _life_  is not a story about a Fairy!" In my pettiness, I kicked the cloudstone wall below the communal sinks. "And I wouldn't choose to be a Fairy even if I'd been given the option. I just  _despise_  the way they have to judge us for a culture and biological instincts that are beyond our control to change, you know what I mean? And- and-" Finally, I hurled down my bristlebrush and threw my arms in the air. "Bloody smoke, I don't know. Should I just  _tell_  him Anti-Fairy reproductive parts don't fit together the way he automatically assumes they do? Would he like me to draw him out a picture proving how physically impossible that would be for us? Will  _that_  finally soothe his anxieties when he strolls in and finds us sleeping together at roost?"

Noon shook his head without replying and left me alone to fume. I did, until Freddy entered the washroom a few moments later.  _Oh, wait until you see what_ _ **actual**_ _Anti-Fairy courtship looks like,_ I thought snidely in his direction, and stalked off. Now  _that_  would give him butterflies.

Just as I was about to leave, I realised that Noon had forgotten his latest hardcover novel on the edge of the counter. I grabbed it and glanced over the cover as I used my elbow to open the washroom door.

"Hmm… What does he even read, anyhow?"

Out of curiosity, I flipped the book open somewhere in the middle, just before his bookmark. My eyes had only skimmed down the first two paragraphs before I felt the cool, rosy blush sinking into my cheeks. My wingbeats slowed. The door banged shut behind me. "O-oh. He reads Kalysta Ivorie. That charming old rascal, hm?"

The, erm… the content of that collection did not befit a gentledrake such as myself. I'd read the details of reproduction before, of course, but never like  _this_. I'd blanketed myself in the technical world from the time I was eight years old, but floating there and staring down at Noon's open novel in my hands… Well, um… I almost don't dare confess, but this was better than research papers, somehow. You know, having emotions to match to the process, even if this was a romance about Fairies. The parts of their respective reproductive systems remained just outside my understanding, and a few of the kissing techniques were utterly impossible to picture in my head with the pair in the position that they were, but I knew enough to follow along.

I'll readily admit that I was curious. I read the entire scene three times on my way down the corridor, just to absolutely confirm it was intended to be taken as affectionate rather than sociosexual. It was. I leafed several pages farther back, my chest swollen with the sudden need to discover precisely what had brought the pair together in the first place. Why, imagine my surprise when I learned they had only met that night, on the front steps of a Fairy World sugar bar before they'd so much as batted a wing inside! They chatted so long that the bar closed up, and with faint amusement, the drake agreed to spend the night in this stranger's home instead of flying home to face the brother who had sent him out for sodas.

And those two sang together with  _that_  level of passion? In a Soil year, too?

… Oh.

I mean, I really don't intend any offence or anything. Despite my annoyance at snooty Fairies, I'm accepting of all lifestyles and romantic pursuits, you know what I mean? If a couple wish to pair the night they meet, then that's entirely their business, and I don't consider it my place to judge. It's just that I myself… Um, I'm not sure I could hand my most private, trusted self to anyone I hadn't truly loved for a thousand years, at  _least_. Not in a passionate way. It would just be so uncomfortable… the awkwardness would just fluster me to my roots… I mean, it just… Doesn't it feel a little…?

Oh gods, that sounds stupid, doesn't it? I don't know. Blimey, just look at me. A few millennia shy of 150,000 years, and still blabbing on about 'true love' and exclusive commitment as though the honey-lock won't tear his world of innocence apart one of these nasty days. Pathetic, really.

Well. I suppose it might be entertaining to pleasure a gorgeous lover during the Seven Festivals if we'd hit it off early on in the celebrations and I knew they were enjoying my affections, because that could turn out to be a thrill just for the delightful atmosphere, but I simply don't think that constant flitting-about lifestyle is for me, is all I'm trying to say. No offence, really. I only mean… it's just not for me. Not long-term. Yes, perhaps I might allow my friends to coax me into a bit of rowdy fun one of these days when we're older and I happen to be feeling particularly bored, but in the end, I'm really just a person who values the emotional bond that comes hand in hand with commitment, you know what I mean?

I'm not making any sense.

But Mickey understood my sentiment. He confessed to me in private once that he rather liked commitment, and we had an entire conversation over lunch about his drone roommate, Rain. "He's not really into the whole relationship thing," Mickey explained to me, tilting back his head. "He only spends time with me when he wants something. I need a friend who spends time with me, and makes plans with me. Like this, you know? Like you do."

"I can understand that," I murmured, trying to balance the vegetables on my fork without using my spoon to push them on.

And that, damsels and gentledrakes, is how I somehow or other ended up having a one-morning preen with a gyne.

It started with a study session at the library that was supposed to last an hour, but in the end ran into three. With my sharp memory, I thought it was all rather pointless, but Mickey assured me he valued every moment. A fourth hour passed as Mickey shyly showed me a small red orb capable of projecting music loud enough to fill an entire room.

"You invented this?" I asked, cradling the orb against my cheek.

"Sort of. Music isn't new, but it's always belonged to the experts. I invented a portable device even a commoner like me can figure out."

"Good show, Mickey! Well done, I say."

He waved a modest hand, glancing at the ceiling with a smile.

When it was finally getting late, I gathered my scrolls together and said, "Mick, I have a question I'd like to run by you."

"Sure," he said, lifting his bag from his chair.

I unwrapped a tying ribbon from around my hand and reached for my last papers. "As you may recall me mentioning once before, I'm afflicted with  _divus_  displacement disorder on an everyday basis. Painting gyne pheromones across my face reduces my extreme mood swings, or so I've been told. I've used donor pheromones in the past, but is there any chance you might be interested in direct preening with me? Or if you aren't, do you think you could nudge me in the direction of a gyne who is?"

A satchel hit the floor with a  _thud_. I blinked. Hugging my scrolls to my chest, I turned to find Mickey standing behind his chair, his fingers clutching nothing. His wings trembled. His scarlet eyes locked with mine, but only for an instant; he broke the link by glancing away, and reached back to rub the base of his neck. "Oh," he said. "Oh, wow."

"It's fine if you don't want to," I assured him hurriedly, clutching my scrolls tighter. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. Please, think it over and get back to me later, when you've had some time alone."

"I want to," he blurted, breaking into a sudden giggle. "I just- Y-yeah. Yeah, sure. I'd love to preen with you. I… wow. I, um… That would be great. I totally produce pheromones now. I, uh, didn't want to ask, so… I'm glad you did. I want to."

"Ta! Are you free this weekend, perchance?"

"Um…" Mickey bit his lip, his attention flicking up to the ceiling. He squirmed one of his feet in the air. Hint by hint, he sank down into his chair again. "Gee, this is awkward. I'm so sorry. I'm actually pretty booked on Thursday, but Friday morning would be great. Would that work for you? We can try next week, if that doesn't work."

Friday morning was my personal reading time, but since I wasn't taking any Friday classes this year anyway, I figured I could make an exception. "I can pick up breakfast on my way over," I offered. "Possibly something sweet. Do you have a preference?"

Mickey giggled again, combing his fingers through his hair. "No, no, just… surprise me."

Holding my scrolls to my chest with just one arm, I braced my other hand against the table and leaned so close to him, our noses nearly touched. "Look here, darling. If I surprise you, you're getting sesame seed bagels. Are sesame seed bagels okay?"

Mickey's face pinkened, clashing horribly with his orange shirt, but in a ridiculously cute sort of way. His shaky grin broke into a genuine one. "Y-you're good at the whole 'enthusiastic consent' thing," he squeaked. One hand moved up to cover his mouth. "I like the protein shakes from- uh… from…"

"From…?"

His eyes darted away. "F-from that café by the library. Yeah."

"Bagels for me, shake for you," I promised. Mickey ducked his head, tugging on his zipper. He blushed up a storm without ever losing his smile. I smiled too and adjusted my scrolls again. This was fun. Some days, playful flirtations just came so naturally to me. Not that this was  _technically_  a romantic get-together, I suppose, if the rubbish Fairy propaganda was to be believed (I never did buy into their platonic fantasies, you know). Yes, this was fun. I couldn't wait to tell Anti-Kanin and Mona all about it.

Friday morning found me outside Mickey's dorm, my warm bagels neatly wrapped and his protein shake in a soft cup. I tapped on the door carefully. Mickey answered it, dressed in a white button-up shirt that fit him too loosely and soft, striped blue trousers that looked better suited for sleeping in than impressing a date. I chuckled inwardly as I appraised him. Not all stereotypes are false, and casual Fairy attitudes regarding pyjamas in public was certainly one that wasn't. His mouth dropped open.

_"Oh."_

The toes on one of my feet clamped over the other. I forced a straining smile. "Yes, yes, I know. Surprise. I wasn't sure exactly what you were expecting, so I went ahead and trimmed all my facial fur back to the scales. My understanding is that your tongue will be on my face today, and an old drone once warned me Fairy tongues collect hairballs. I thought it polite to spare you that awkwardness at this tender stage of our relationship, ahaha."

Mickey pressed the tips of his forefingers to his lips. His eyes darted up and down my face. "Was that hard?"

"No, not particularly. There are shaving creams one can buy. Full facial trims aren't too common of a practice in Anti-Fairy World at this time, but it isn't rare either. I figured it out." Rolling my eyes, I added, "'Fashion' in Anti-Fairy World ebbs and flows at the whims of the more popular Anti-Fairy damsels. There will come a day within our lifetimes when shaving faces will be all the rage, believe you me."

"How long did that take you?"

"Oh, I managed it all this morning."

Mickey gave me a doubtful glance. I almost quailed and confessed the truth - that I had passed two evenings struggling to make myself presentable - but I didn't. Instead I said, "I brought breakfast," and held out the protein shake and bag of bagels.

"Thanks," Mickey said, his tight shoulders relaxing. I passed him the shake, and he popped off the plastic lid. Nodding, he wedged his foot against the base of the door. "Come in, yeah! Good to see you. You look great."

"Do I really?" I asked absently. I felt overdressed, having forsaken my usual black shirt for the blue coat with all the inside pockets that I wore when I was out working with umbrae. Although I realised now that all my gadgets were still stuffed inside… I could feel my slingshot digging into my hip.

Mickey probably nodded in reply, but I was too busy skimming my eyes across his dorm to notice for sure. Apart from the fact that everything here was mirrored on the opposite side from what I was used to, his place didn't look much different than mine. Same high ceilings, same close walls, same icebox, same sofa. The place was clean, and smelled faintly of fruit. A platter of grapes, cheese, and crackers had been set out on a small table. The light level was low. Candles. Quaint. I liked it. Mickey shut the door with his shoulder and floated up beside me.

"So, uh… you've never preened before, have you?"

A flash of panic shot through my veins. Was that a bad thing? Did he want a partner who already had experience? If I confirmed it, would he change his mind and force me out? I fought to keep my voice from rising as I said, "Whatever gave you that impression?"

He coughed into his fist. "You, um… didn't bring a water flask."

I glanced down at the satchel on my hip, even though I knew he was right. "Oh," I said, for lack of anything else to say. The fur prickled on the back of my neck. Oh, wonderful. I'd only been inside for two seconds, and I was already ruining everything.

"It's okay," he told me gently, and smiled. "If you get dehydrated, let me know and we can break for a few minutes. We'll take it slow. Just let me know up front what you  _don't_  want to do today."

 _Darling, if we were older, I doubt I'd hesitate to strip you bare and kiss your stomach slit up and down,_  I thought absently, but didn't say so. This was Mickey's culture, his ceremony, his dance, and I would let him take the lead. That was his right, whether he'd been born in a Love year or not. I fiddled with my satchel strap, then lifted it over my head and hung it on the door handle. I set the bagels beside the cheese and crackers. "Oh, my boundaries are flexible. Really, I'm one of those adventurous souls who delights in being surprised, so as far as you're concerned this morning, I'm yours. If you  _do_  manage to startle me in some way I'm not comfortable with, then I'll certainly let you know with haste. But, I highly doubt that will happen, so don't worry yourself over nothing, I say, hm?"

Mickey was quiet for so long that I began to fret I'd made myself appear looser than was dignified. I raised my head, but found him tracing his bare foot back and forth across the kitchen floor. Rarely did I have the chance to get a close look at the feet of Seelie Courters, and I wasn't sure what to think of them. Ugly, misshapen little hands, they were. Stubby toes. No opposables.

"So, what are  _your_  boundaries?" I prompted. He may be a little shy, but it was still important to be clear. Mickey thought for a moment, pulling down the hem of his pyjama shirt, before he finally looked up.

"Pants stay on, shirts are maybes. I like it pretty quiet, and I like big open spaces, so I was hoping we could do it out here in the main dorm area, not my tiny bedroom. Don't worry; my roommates agreed to stay out so we could have our privacy. I, um… I've always imagined I'd have this habit of holding my partner's face while I seriously preen, so if that bothers you, th-then just speak up and I'll stop. Most importantly, if I decide I need to be done, I want to be done, no questions asked. Is that okay?"

Ah. I squinted. If Mickey and I had been about to engage in a long-term romantic partnership, I could see a few points in his requests that would cause no end of problems eventually. I am not a very quiet person by nature, and even imagining Mickey pulling away from me without prior warning or explanation was beginning to stress me out. What if I offended him? Or what if halfway through he simply decided I wasn't good enough, or worth his time, or he regretted ever having invited me over? What if he told his friends never to speak to me again, and they told all their friends too?

However, what I said was, "Yes, I can work with that. How do we begin this, then?"

Mickey paused. His fingers slid behind his neck, and he glanced at the ceiling. "How do  _you_  think we should begin this, Julius?"

I blinked, taken aback. "Uhh…" Why was he asking me to lead? Wasn't the entire purpose of the preening ritual to flex one's muscles and flaunt one's dominance? Besides that, I was the one stepping outside the norms of my culture here. A flicker of annoyance stabbed down my spine. Oh, drat. This was like courting Mona all over again. Why was I always expected to make the first move? Just once, I wanted a charming dame or handsome bloke to pin my willing shoulders against the sofa and pleasure me without a gram of restraint, you know what I mean? I wanted the gentle, affectionate head butts against the bottom of my chin. I wanted every flutter of fingers to leave me shuddering as though in a storm. I wanted the icy flower of passion to rise undeniably in my chest.

So that's how I approached Mickey. Moving carefully to avoid crumpling his wings, I progressed us through the licking ritual until he was on his back and I towered above him. He smirked in satisfaction and sat halfway up to scrape his tongue across the scales on my cheek. Then he pulled away again, tilting up his chin so his neck remained exposed.  _Well?_  his sparkling eyes seemed to ask.  _Don't you like me? Don't you WANT me?_

I hovered above him, too puzzled to move for some time. When I did extend my tongue, it was with hesitation. I waited for Mickey to deny me, to warn me that I was overstepping my role as the subordinate one in our relationship. He did not. In fact, it was only when I crouched over him, kneeling in his lap with his head flat to the sofa and my hands braced against his chest (Curse that jabbing slingshot), that he finally relaxed. In fact, I do believe it was the first time I'd seen him relax at all since I'd met him weeks ago. I bent down to scrape my careful tongue along the bottom of his chin, then brushed my saliva away with my sleeve before my acid could sear his skin. Mickey arched his neck, sighing softly. All the tenseness left his muscles. His clenched fingers eased.

"Ahh…"

"That did something for you?" I asked curiously, leaning more of my weight forward. Anti-Fairies squeak when they're excited in a romantic way, you know. It's Mona's squeaking and squealing that drives me insane with desire- with the knowledge that  _I_  was good enough to coax such a response from her, the longing to press her to the wall while I douse her fluttering eyelids in smooches… But Mickey wasn't giving me any of that. Nothing more than these little gasps and sighs that made him sound as though his belly was ailing him. What did those mean? Good? Bad? Were those intentional, or was he under so much anxious stress that he'd simply cracked?

Oh, why did communicating across Court boundaries have to be so  _complicated?_

"Mmhm," he murmured, opening one sleepy eye. I could hear happy liquid magic tumbling through his veins. He blinked up at me in slow motion. "Do that again, Julius. I really like it."

His arms were still flopped above his head at crooked angles as though in mid-stretch, and he had yet to show any interest in bringing them up to touch  _me_  in any way. Hmph. Wasn't  _I_  supposed to gain pleasure from this ritual too? Because right now, I felt more like a hired anti-will o' the wisp than an equal partner. I wrinkled my nose, but complied with his request. Never let it be said that Julius Anti-Lunifly doesn't know the tricks of alluring foreplay.

An hour passed by the end of our preening session, and never once did Mickey return my advances further than a handful of random licks along my nose. Nothing at all involving his hands. So much for holding onto someone's face when he loses himself in licking. He didn't even try after the first two minutes. Granted, I didn't ask, but… I mean… He should have picked up on the nonverbal signals that I wanted him to. Right? He valued my friendship too, didn't he? I wasn't just… all the benefits of a drone combined with none of the responsibility… Right?

In the end, I left Mickey's dorm more discouraged than I wish I would have been, my head low and my hands shoved deep inside the pockets of my trousers. When I came across a particularly dense piece of cloud outside, I kicked it with my foot and sent it bursting in all directions. Bits of fluff rained around me. I flew faster.

Is something wrong with me? Shouldn't I have enjoyed that?

Maybe preening simply wasn't my thing.  _Good smoke, I really want to lick the sweat off your pudgy, wrinkled neck right now_ , had never been a thought to cross my mind when I looked at Mickey, or at any of the other young gynes on campus. I mean, it wasn't as though I was  _opposed_  to preening with a gyne if it pleasured him. If I ever had a gyne for a romantic partner, anyway. It just didn't make me feel…  _you know._

I felt good, I guess, but I'd seen drones waddle about smokedarn  _drunk_  off pheromones, fat and happy like painted seashells. Mickey's soft after-snuggles reeked of someone who'd been serviced properly, but even those hadn't made me feel any of the emotions I'd expected. Why couldn't I find the mental escape in preening that Fairies could? Wasn't I supposedly a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body? Wasn't this supposed to do something for me? Alas, it's awfully cruel to need something you don't even really want.

I felt empty. Unfulfilled. Hungry for more than he could give.

"Ohh, Mickey," I muttered to myself, clenching my monocle. I spurred my flight across campus faster still. "My own shame wounds my pride as though you struck me down yourself. Ah, if we were but a few millennia older, I imagine I could show you what a good time really is. The pretend-play of preening isn't my style. I'm the sort of drake who desires to see things through to their end. It's over between us now, I'm afraid, old sport. But keep your chin up. While I can never be your committed drone, perhaps one day in the distant future, you and I could whirl around the roost together, hm?"

It's hilarious to have culture differences, isn't it? To think that Mickey grew hesitant when the faintest tips of my stomach fur brushed his skin through two layers of fabric… yet upon my return to my room, Noon didn't bat a single eyelash when I  _poof_ ed into my nightclothes and flew up to join him for a late-morning bundle and steamy romantic book.

Winter break came upon us a few days later. After our final day of exams, I meandered sluggishly about the dorm, flying low enough to drag my heels. Rarely since my schooling began had I visited the Castle during holiday, for visiting the Castle meant an unavoidable encounter with Mother. But on the other hand, Mona and Lohai would be waiting for me…

"Why don't you come visit my colony?" Noon suggested, swiping my discarded sandals from the floor. He dropped them on a chair. "I've met your brother, but you've never met mine."

I snapped the buckle on the smaller of my two satchels and glanced up. "I suppose we could make that work. And what of your betrothed? Did you visit the Blue Castle during your first Seven Festivals? You've never mentioned a betrothed."

He paused, but before I could question why, he said, "No betrothed," and that was that. He scraped his claws through his black and silver hair. "Which is fine. I don't think I'll ever be interested in committing to marriage. Having a honey-lock partner will be enough for me. I'm a bit of a lone foop."

This was news to me, and I tipped my head. "You know, you're already so patient and firm. You'd be a wonderful father someday, quick to discipline but never harshly. Surely you don't really wish to give that up?"

Noon scratched his cheek. "I don't hate pups, but I don't really want to raise any of my own. I suppose…" Here, he frowned. One arm tightened around his torso. "If my honey-lock partner doesn't have a committed partner of her own by the time she bears a pup, I'd consider marrying her. But ideally, she'll be married to someone else, and they'll do a fine job raising the pups without me. Who knows? It may never happen anyway. Not with the fairy baby mandate. My counterpart was sterilised along with all the other fairy drakes."

The way he spoke sent shivers down my spine. I bit my lip and curled in my toes. Smoke, it always terrified me to recall the utter control Fairy-Cosmo wielded over my life. I'd always had the fairy baby mandate to soothe my fears of bearing estranged offspring, but now I wondered…

Would that ban lift within my lifetime? What if I ever bore pups with my honey-lock partner, and it turned out she was married to another Anti-Fairy already? One whom she dearly loved? Legally, any pups I may give her belonged to her and her legal partner. Even if they carried my genetics, no matter how much I may want them, I had no legal ground to claim them as my own. Why, even if she  _wasn't_  married and had no regular partner at all to speak of, she still wasn't required to share custody of our children with me if she chose not to. If she wished to raise them without me, that was her right.

Could I ever learn to accept that? As Noon struck his wand against the stove to coax it alight, I stared at the back of his head, wondering if he was a better drake than I.

I returned to packing my things, having made up my mind to join Noon at the Anti-Sundive colony for the first week of my break, and spend the rest of it with Mona and Lohai back home. Several minutes in, I sat back and stared in sudden amazement at the ceiling. I only had one more term at Frederick Shinesworth. I would graduate from Lower School this spring. Mona and I had discussed my plans with Anti-Bryndin and Anti-Elina, and against my protests, they had all encouraged me not to continue my education into Upper School. And especially not into the Fairy Academy after that.

I'd sworn to Mona that I would attempt to lead a bachelor colony for a matter of seasons, and upon my return to the Castle, I would marry her. Leaving home, I didn't mind. But trading centuries of educational opportunity to roam aimlessly throughout Anti-Fairy World sipping flower nectar and munching on squirming mouthfuls of sprites?

Could I really accept that, either?

 _"Bats do it,"_ Mona had assured me when we'd last discussed the subject two years ago. My stomach had clenched then, as it clenched again now. My devotion to my retort hadn't changed:  _"I'm more than my base instincts. I'm more than just a bat."_

I wondered where my brother was. I hadn't heard from them since that Patrons' Day at the Castle. I hoped their health was well.

After I'd packed my clothes away, I stormed into our dorm kitchen, holding up a thick orange shirt with a zipper down its front for all my roommates to see. "Oh, look at this! Somehow, Mickey managed to accidentally stuff his sweater in the bottom of my drawer. Rubbish. Noon, you're skilled in tracking spells, aren't you? I know he lives in Lau Rell, but that's as specific as he ever got, so I can't return it to him otherwise."

Teddy smothered his laughter in his palm. "I think he left that for you on purpose, chief."

I shifted my gaze between him and Mickey's sweater. "For me? But I'm an Anti-Fairy. I have fur to keep me warm, and I'll be snuggled up at roost with my crechemates all winter."

Noon paused, soup dribbling from his ladle. "Julius, don't take this the wrong way, but did you, or did you not, notice Mickey's been flirting with you this entire term?"

I blinked. Having folded up Mickey's sweater, I set it on the counter's edge. "What? He has?"

Teddy, Noon, Rander, and Freddy all nodded. "Blatantly," Rander said.

"Ahaha… No. No, you misunderstand." I placed both my hands to my chest. "I'm Julius Anti-Lunifly, son of a concubine and a goody-goody servant. My lift barely surpasses two claw-widths on a good day. I'm stubborn and off-putting. I'm not even 150,000 yet. People don't flirt with me."

"Mickey does."

"Why?"

Noon gestured towards me with his ladle. "Because you have what he doesn't, even though he's a gyne."

Freddy nodded. "You've got the big ol' CIYD."

"CIYD!" Rander punched the air. "CIYD."

I shifted my gaze from left to right. "I haven't the foggiest idea what you mean by that."

"Confidence in your dominance," Noon said, holding out a square bowl of soup for me to take. "You're a leader type. He responds to that."

"I don't lead anything!"

"You led him  _on,"_ Teddy snickered.

"We're just friends!" I protested, tears springing to my eyes.

Rander snorted. "You came home one night with traces of his magic all over you. You totally smooched him."

"Yes! As friends!"

They fell over each other, cracking up at my expense. With a snort at their immaturity, I took my soup bowl and excused myself to the other room. There, alone for a moment, I leaned my back against the door and slid all the way down until I was sitting on the cloudstone floor. I folded my legs, rested the bowl in my lap, and pushed my hands against my eyes.

"Oh, Mickey… How could I have been so blind? Mickey, Mickey, Mickey…" I massaged my temples, growing more frustrated by the second. "Smoke, I don't  _like_  Mickey. I've never liked Mickey. Not like that, anyhow. I mean, I barely even know him. Did he give me his shirt to show I had his favour? I don't want to carry it. I could never court someone I don't know."

Why did those intense physical feelings of attraction come easily for the characters in Kalysta Ivorie's writing, but not for me? I mean, for them it was as simple as exchanging smiles and talking for the span of an evening. Then they made love. It was plain and simple for them, even knowing next to nothing about one another.

I pressed my hands to my cheeks, trying to think of a single person in the universe I would be comfortable sharing my most intimate self with were I to come of legal age tomorrow. Mickey? Absolutely not. I considered us acquaintances more than friends. Anti-Wanda? Oh, I delighted in listening to her bubbly laughter, but if she approached me any time soon full of flirtations, I wouldn't lay a claw below her waist. And she wasn't exactly the prettiest thing, either. Not the sort of person one normally pines to kiss, with her awkward teeth jabbing out and the constant crossing of her eyes. No. I wasn't attracted to Anti-Wanda. Anti-Kanin? Love him fiercely I may, but I wasn't sure I loved him in  _that_  sense. Anti-Kanin was someone I wished to exchange strokes with so I may take his favour and prove our forever friendship. I had no interest in singing with him at roost.

Mona? I'd kissed her in the silly, passionate way of adolescents before, and  _of course_  I couldn't wait to sing with her, because my research… my theories… my pups…

"I'd do it for science," I realised, lifting one corner of my soup bowl to my lips. My brow furrowed. "That's what drives me. I'd mate with her in order to bear pups, but if the nature spirits themselves told me my theories were wrong and my hands would surely turn up empty…"

I sipped my soup again in silence. Yes. I needed Mona because she was female. Once we came into our adult wings, the final link between us and our counterparts would open, granting her access to Fairy-Saffron's sperm, and allowing me to carry Fairy-Cosmo's eggs. According to my leading theories, both were required in my grand plan to produce pups without a corresponding Fairy nymph counterpart. No Anti-Fairy understood me the way Mona did. I could not afford to lose her.

Strange. The fact of the matter was, I liked Mona in a friendly way. As our relationship stood now, I felt completely comfortable talking to her, snuggling up beside her while we slept, reproducing with her… but not making love to her for the sake of simply making love.

Was that wrong?

I stayed awake all night, fidgeting at roost. Poor Noon put up with my squirming, even if it left us both groggy and cranky the following day. In the end, I finally came to the conclusion that I was too young to fret about this, and that given a little time, my feelings towards Mona would grow more affectionate. Winter break was here. Today was a new day. I would face it in high spirits.

"Mickey died last night," Teddy said as I was reaching for the jam at breakfast. My arm shuddered, frozen, and I turned. Most of Teddy's weight was braced on his elbow, it seemed. His fingers curled in his golden brown hair. It took, it seemed, every gram of his being to keep himself from crying.

"What happened?" I croaked.

Teddy sighed, his hand slipping over his eyes. "I woke up to my scry bowl bubbling close to midnight. It was my aunt calling. She told me about it. A more dominant gyne took up residence in Lau Rell while he was here in school. When Mickey went home…"

"Gynes are territorial. They kill other gynes." A lump formed in my throat.

Teddy scrubbed his thumb across his forehead. "They're having his funeral in his hometown tonight… if you'd like to go. I'm going. I mean, I didn't know Mickey too well, but he was close friends with my sister. I think she intended to court him when they were older. And he's just dead now. He's dust."

"That's not good," I murmured, raising my fingertips to my cheek. "Well… All right. Thank you ever so much for letting me know."

When I lifted my head the first thing my eyes fell on was Mickey's orange zipper-up shirt, folded and resting on the end of the counter where I'd set it the night before. His wing slits were so thin. A curl of green hair lay across the shoulder. I stared at it, feeling blank.

"I hate to ask," Teddy said, following my gaze to the shirt. "But… can you do something about that? Either wash his pheromones out of it, or take it back to Anti-Fairy World?"

I nodded mechanically, picked up the shirt, and left the kitchen. Later that morning, while Noon was out and no one was watching, I  _tried_  to connect to poor Mickey. I pulled the shirt over my head and pressed the collar to my nose, the way I'd seen hopeful Fairy damsels sniff their lover's scents.

His pheromones were present, but they didn't do anything for me. Mickey didn't smell like an adult gyne the way my donor bottles did. He smelled like a child. A sweet, innocent, hopeful child who was supposed to study Boudacian and Yugopotamian geology someday. After taking Mickey's shirt off again, I curled in a ball on Rander's narrow bed and used the shirt as a pillow. I stayed there in the dark until I heard Noon come back. Then I  _poof_ ed it deep enough into pocketspace for wild umbrae to find and make nests out of it, and did my utmost to forget it was even there.

Noon and I followed Teddy to Lau Rell, a tiny Fairy town between the borders of the Central Star and Lower West Regions of Fairy World whose famous carnival I'd heard of, but had never attended. The place was intended to be cosy, although it wasn't. Teddy introduced us to his aunt, Dm. Luna, who tearfully offered us a place to stay in her home. Noon and I looked at each other, then at Teddy to confirm that she was serious. He nodded. Then Noon looked to me, respectfully deferring as a Sky year does to a Water. I twisted the star cap of my wand in my hands.

"That's, um… that's very kind of you, it really is, but Noon and I will be quite all right sleeping outdoors."

"I insist."

She insisted. I grimaced and stiffly bowed. "With all due respect, dame, I highly doubt your quaint home is equipped to meet our needs, and we wouldn't wish to impose. A sturdy tree to roost from will be sufficient."

Dm. Luna tried to protest, but I held firm. Then she tried to outfit us in coats that weren't designed for Anti-Fairy wings. I again denied her, pointing out that we had brought our own. Then she insisted my limping wing wasn't well and that she in all her wisdom of "real" medicine could set it right for me… In the end, Noon and I left for the funeral bundled up in scarves striped with the colours of peppermint, spewing yarn from our mouths with every gust of wind and trying not to giggle.

That wasn't a problem any longer once we reached the actual funeral site, in front of the spurting fountain in the centre of town. Sombreness overcame our procession. As a group, we all fanned out around it and stilled our wings. Mickey's mother hovered in the middle, holding his core between her hands. Unlike mine, his had actually manifested into something more than empty storage space. It's always strange, you know, when you learn what was inside the forehead chambers of your peers all this time. Mickey's core had been capable of punching holes through parchment. That's how Fairies saw his soul: Something that was useful only when it had a purpose. Something that was dead and lost to them now.

Mickey's mother spoke straightforwardly on the ups and downs of Mickey's life, instead of waxing poetic like an Anti-Fairy would. I clasped my hands at my waist and bowed my head, trying not to feel sick to my stomach over the fact that Dm. Luna had insisted Noon and I wear black instead of white. _Don't you know that will attract negative karma?_ I wanted to scream at everyone, but I kept my mouth clamped shut and buried in my scarf.

Fairies are cruel even when they don't intend to be. They collect the souls of their late fellows from the heaps of lifedust their bodies leave behind. Anti-Fairies bury such things in sacred Temple chambers, but Fairies have no qualms about overstepping their place, or breaching the metaphysical world. They believe that if they hold the physical form of one's soul in their hands, the spirit it belonged to can return from Plane 23 to visit them. They slice such things open and dissect the inner spirit from the worldly outer shell; no, Fairies do not fear the sacred status of the core. They keep the old souls of their relatives on their work desks like trophies, punching holes or stapling papers or sharpening quills.

I realised then that Mickey's family held Daoist beliefs, and I had never asked him. They didn't believe in reincarnation the way we Zodii did. In his mother's mind, everything that made up Mickey was lost now. Somewhere on Plane 23 of Existence, Mickey had reunited in spirit with his Anti-Fairy and Refracted counterparts to become a single united being known as a Daoine.  _Daoine_  translated literally meant  _the people_  in the ancient Fairy tongue of Gaideliac. The people that Daoist Fairies wanted to force mine to be…

I tried to focus on his mother's speech, but my ears twitched back and forth, fighting to block out the whispers flying through the crowd and completely unable to: "Spoke to him once but never knew him well," "Heard he was a good kid who collected rocks his entire life," "Why does  _she_  get to be in the fountain, China? Isn't that against the rules?"

At that last comment, my wings jolted. That voice, I recognised. I twisted around.  _Mister?_

I kept my mouth shut, but the startled child sensed my movement and turned to me with a crow-eyed stare. Today he wore a crisp grey suit, not the rumpled clothes I'd seen him in at Sugarslew. Grey was, evidently, close enough to black for it to be acceptable at a funeral. His double cowlick was gone, and his hair looked shaggier in the back than I remembered. A pointed hat floated above his head in place of a broken crown. But the black hair, the pale skin, the square wings, the little round nose, those lavender eyes… He shoved his thumb inside his mouth and glanced shyly at the cobbled cloudstones. The selkie beside him (China by name, it would seem) smiled and gave him a small nudge. He shook his head and tightened his fingers in the pocket of her coat. China shrugged. Shifting a newborn nymph to her other arm, she waved at me, then turned her attention forward again.

Just before I did the same, I caught sight of two small figures on her other side. Both looked very similar to the thumb-sucker, including sharing the pointed grey hats, but one child was a handspan shorter and as pale and scrawny as a wraith, while the other was a handspan taller, and he  _did_  have the cowlicks at the front of his hair. Mister. He stared at me in suspicious curiosity, both his arms clenched around China's leg. His little brownie-like wings fluttered in circles like an elf's. The scrawnier child's expression appeared equally wary, but intrigued. Oh. I cocked my head to one side, and a sense of dread began to fill the pit of my stomach. I had the feeling I knew  _exactly_  which gyne had settled in Lau Rell while Mickey was away. Coincidentally, Mr. Whimsifinado himself was nowhere to be found. And if all four of those crossbred fairy children were his nephews, then Emery had certainly been busy…

"Poor, sweet China," Dm. Luna sighed when I finally tore my attention away from them. She pulled her coat tighter at the front. "Life is bumpy for selkies like her, changing hands without a choice. That nasty brute of a husband has been cheating on her for centuries, you know."

"'Cheating'?" I asked. The word was familiar, but not in this context.

"They're not her nymphs," she murmured, staring straight ahead. "Damsels always pass their crowns to their children, but those aren't selkie ones above their heads. They hide them with the ugly hats. She's a good dame, China."

I fell silent, trying to follow along with the Daoist ceremony without having the cultural context to understand King Nuada's scripture. This became more difficult when I realised an undertone of music was playing in the background. Not at the funeral itself… but from somewhere in the distance, at the edge of my hearing. None of the Fairies seemed to notice, but I couldn't stop glancing over my shoulder, and even Noon succumbed and flattened his ears. Good smoke! What sort of empathy-lacking psychopath would play party music this loudly during a small town funeral?

… The gyne.

My face purpled. That was Mickey's music player, wasn't it? The one he'd spent millennia inventing himself. Mr. Whimsifinado must have searched Mickey's schoolpack once he'd killed him off, and thought the music player looked interesting enough to take.

When  _Lepidopteritus_  came on, I couldn't take it any longer. I grabbed Noon's arm and whispered, "I'm going to end this."

He leaned down without taking his eyes from Mickey's mother. "Don't. I know it's upsetting, but just let it go."

"I won't," I hissed, my hackles bristling up. The way I saw it, Mr. Whimsifinado already looked down on my people. If he was going to hate me either way, it may as well be because I deserved it. Shoving Noon's arm, I turned and slipped away between the crowd. He wouldn't follow me. We're a colony-oriented species. If the majority of the group was staying behind, so would he. Perhaps I do have a bit of a Fairy brain in my head after all.

With my sensitive ears, tracing the music to its source wasn't difficult. After only a brief moment of flying, I pulled up my wings and landed on the roof of a tall pink house that I instantly identified as having been designed with the mid millennia modern architectural style in mind. Ridged shingles bit my hands. There I crouched, poised like a gargoyle on the slope. I rasped my tongue across my lips and picked my way on all fours down towards the one window on the upper floor that glowed with light. I'd trained for ages as a homeostasis specialist. A 'demon summoner' as the Fairies so eloquently put it. I never went anywhere new these days without my, ah…  _supplies_  stuffed under my coat.

This had to be the place. The thumping music swirled around the building like a vest padded with four-leaf clovers. I slid down from the roof and landed in a crouch on the windowsill. "The joke's on you, old sport," I muttered, squinting through the frost-coated glass. I drew my slingshot and a hefty rock from the inner pockets of my coat. "Don't you know it's bad luck to be superstitious? Ha. It's a shame I have to exact revenge and run, but I'd never get any exercise if I didn't."

My blood thudded through my veins in time with the pulse of the music on the other side of the window. My shoulders pressed against cloudstone. I searched the room three times over, straining to identify the different pieces of furniture without the aid of my echolocation. What I found was a Fairy style bedchamber, complete with a writing desk, a dresser, a closet, and (most importantly) a large mirror hanging across from the enormous bed. Silver back- I could tell. I couldn't suppress a soft cackle at the sight of it. Oh, the fool! The bedchamber walls had been painted with brown, white, and pink trees to mimic the wonder of young springtime. He'd hung the round mirror to balance the Leaves energy in the room with Sky, but at what cost?

This was almost too easy! My grip tightened around the handle of my slingshot, but I forced myself, with all the chiding I could muster, to hold my patience. Fate swiftly blesses the ones who wait. I looked inside the room again, and realised suddenly that the cushy bed was occupied. Oh. Yes, of course. Usually when a room was alight with candles, someone was inside it. My angle wasn't excellent, but when I strained, I could pick out the shape of a large fairy tossing and turning beneath the heavy bed covers. Just as I leaned forward, he jolted upright and looked blearily around. He wore mint green pyjamas to sleep. Sweat stained his arms. He huddled there for a moment, hands braced on the sleeping pallet behind him. His chest heaved as though he couldn't drink magic properly through his lines. The energy field around me rang with zings of exhausted confusion. His eyes glowed bright lavender in the dim light, searing like mourning candles in my direction. He looked squishy and soft without his glasses.

I faltered, my jaw slackening. Despite the thumping music drowning out all but my own thoughts, Mr. Whimsifinado wasn't dancing on Mickey's grave. He was  _asleep!_  Or, well, trying to be. Fitfully too, by the looks of it.

… This made things easier. I needed 'easier,' particularly if Mr. Whimsifinado was awake and alert now. My close proximity must have tripped his Fairy senses. I puffed my cheeks, forced myself to glance away from him, and sized up the mirror on the opposite wall. It hung in direct line of the window where I now perched. It would only take one solid hit on my part to shatter it- or maybe two, depending on if my first attack died at the window glass. Yes, only two shots at the most.

Gritting my fangs, I placed the rock in the pouch of my slingshot and pulled back the elastic. I would wait a moment more until Mr. Whimsifinado lapsed back into sleep. When that mirror shattered and unadulterated bad luck leaked into this Plane of Existence, the umbrae would come. I was…  _certain_  I could resist their siren call. Yes- I was more than my base instincts, and I could resist the dreaded pull. Without an anti-fairy to interfere, the invisible beasts would tear that slumbering murderer apart where he lay in his bed of roses and thorns. Today, there would be no camouflage uniforms to save him. A wand for a wand. A wing for a wing. It was his fate. It was decided. C'est… la…

I…

I…

My outstretched hand trembled. The tears bubbled over. Sniffling pathetically, I lowered my slingshot. The rock in the pocket tumbled across the windowsill, then fell over the edge to the ground far below.

I couldn't do it. Not when he had nymphs to raise. What was  _wrong_  with me? Any other Anti-Fairy would have done it, but  _again_ , my cowardly side confronted my wrath and won out without a fight. Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly was an assortment of uncouth things, but most especially, he was a drake of honour at his core. No matter what they'd done to me or those I loved, I could never strike even the worst Fairy in the world while they looked the other way.

"Forgive me, Mickey," I muttered, slumping back against the cold window. I dropped my slingshot in my lap, and my head in my hands. "Blind revenge is too bitter a drug for my tender palate. I'm afraid I'm just not much of an Anti-Fairy, hm?"

Mr. Whimsifinado crumpled into sleep again, still kicking his legs every other minute or so. I hunkered there on his windowsill until China the selkie came floating up the path with three of Mr. Whimsifinado's nephews trotting after her, and the baby sleeping in her arms. The moment the front door shut behind them, I spread my tired wings. If the funeral had ended, Noon would be looking for me.

Perhaps I was above backstabbing my enemies directly, but I was still a child of Sunnie in the end. I grieved with those who grieved, and I still wanted Mr. Whimsifinado, undeniably, to know that he wasn't as safe and invincible as he thought he was. That icy cold Anti-Fairy magic had visited his cosy home tonight. That I would always be watching him. So that frozen winter evening, before I leapt from his window, I lifted my wand to the heavens, and spent all my strength to summon snow.


	20. Picture the Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter parallels the first half of the Origin of the Pixies chapter "Fruitful Fruition."

_In which Julius begins his internship at the Eros Nest, and struggles with his self-identity_

* * *

_Dear Dame Venus Eros,_

_My name is Julius Anti-Lunifly. I am just over 130,000 years old. I recently completed my Lower School education at Frederick Shinesworth, with high hopes of progressing into Upper School and then to the Fairy Academy someday. There, I plan to study genies. I've been raising a genie doe myself for the last several thousand years, and when she eventually comes into maturity and desires to give birth to candles of her own, I wondered if you might allow her to breed with…_

I halted midway through dotting my last 'i' with a heart. Scowling, I crumpled up the scroll, tossed it over my shoulder with all the others, then buried my face in my hands. "Oh, smite me. She'll think I'm stupid if I say it like that."

Mona, reading a reptile book in the chair near my waste bin, lay her talon on the page and glanced up. "What? Why?"

Without lifting my head, I said, "You can't simply ask a major celebrity like  _Venus Eros,_ Triplet of the Morning herself, if you can breed your genie with one of hers. Oh, I wish my break from school could be more productive, but all I have to show for my efforts is wasted parchment and wasted time. But…" I sighed. My hands came down. "I don't know. Maybe Dm. Venus would allow me to intern under her, and I could work my way up the ladder." I thought about that. Then I thought about it some more. Gathering my dirty quills, I mused, "Yes, perhaps she might take me on. I'm one of the only Anti-Fairies to receive an education since the war. I mean, that does play out in my favour. I wonder if she'd be willing at all to aid me, and perhaps write me a letter of reference when the time comes to submit my Fairy Academy application? After all, she belongs to the Eros bloodline. Her name carries authority, and they really only want what's best for us, don't they?"

Mona sat up straighter. "You're earnestly after education and experience at the Eros Nest?"

I smiled. "Oh, in the end, I'd love to be on close enough terms with Dm. Venus that I could work beneath her as an almost-equal. It will simply take me some time to work my way up to a position where I may meet with her at all, I think. Yes, I think I will try to meet with her. I suppose it's worth asking what steps I ought to go about to do so."

Mona bit her lip. She shut her book and leaned forward, folding her arms. "Aren't you worried? I mean, Fairies are deeply direct in general, but people always promise Dm. Venus is highly harsh."

"She's the counterpart of the cruel damsel who bottled up my lifesmoke and left me on a shelf for two months," I pointed out as I slung my bag over one shoulder. "She can't be that bad."

"'kay. I'll come with you, keeping kindly company."

"Right. I'll fetch Lohai. She'll want to come along." She was big enough now that her travel lamp - a large carpet bag - had grown inconvenient to carry. Yes, once sealed inside she shrank to the size of my fist, but sealing her up required her to fit snugly in. Hmm. You know, I really needed to get around to learning size-altering enchantments one of these days so I might increase the amount of space inside a container without altering its outer dimensions. Not my area of expertise in school.

And so with Anti-Bryndin's permission, Mona and I set off across the border to Fairy World. Jorgen wasn't on duty at the crossing station this time, and I was almost disappointed. I'd grown to enjoy the debates that regularly sprang up between us while I waited for my passport to be approved. Ah, well.

Our time in Fairy World was expected to last a week. Mona and I passed the city of Serentip by, but took our time wandering Faeheim, enjoying traditional Fairy foods and giggling our way through tourist shops. We spent our nights roosting in soft, silver-leaved trees. But eventually, we turned our attention back to the Nest and boarded a tramcar on the orange line. When the doors had closed and we'd left the station behind, I opened Lohai's travel container and allowed her to seep out into the car. She emerged in a pillar of rose-coloured smoke, small and round and growing up much too fast for my liking. Imagine- Me, the surrogate father of a grown, intelligent child!

After reforming, Lohai glanced around with some bewilderment. Then she looked at me. "Papa? Where are we?"

"The final tram on our way to the Eros Nest. We're nearly there now."

She glanced between me and Mona. Then the windows. Then me again. "Why did you release me here?"

"Well, so we might enjoy the ride together, of course. And besides that, Mona and I wanted to rest our wings. The way to the Eros Nest is all uphill from here, and this will get us there faster. Besides that, it's fun."

Lohai settled unhappily on the bench opposite us, folding her arms. She tucked her tail away beneath her with a silky flip like the toss of a scarf. "I hardly consider this an improvement over my prior circumstance. This new lamp rattles about in such a noisy manner. Put simply, I don't like it."

I sighed. Genies. For a people who don't leave the confines of their own dwellings much, they certainly are an awfully critical lot.

Shortly, we pulled up at the Nest. Lohai slipped into her travel bag before the tram door opened. We disembarked at the tiny station. Then, with Mona's hand on my shoulder, I approached the double doors at the entrance of the Eros Nest. They slid apart automatically. I jolted. Mona's fingers squeezed.

We found ourselves floating inside the oh-so-familiar cheerful pink welcome area. My shoulders relaxed at once. I tilted back my head. Purple starlight streamed in through the glass overhead. A blocky, n-shaped desk took up the left side of the room. Two white-haired cherubs sat behind it. They both snapped to attention when we strolled in. I brushed Mona's hands away, leaned my elbows on their desk, and smiled and them brightly.

"Top of the morning to you both, boys! Oh dear me, it's been some time since your mugs were on my radar. Francesco, you're as dashing as I remember. I see you've cut that raggedy mullet at last, and I must say, it's a wonderful look on you. Well?" And here I spread my arms. "Tell me that you missed me! And then pencil me in for the earliest appointment you have available. I'm here to see dear Vinnie. Goodness, I daresay it's been awhile."

The two cherubs, their jaws falling open, exchanged a glance. Francesco brought his hands to the back of his head, and Albert sized me up as though I were a moth beneath his shoe. "How do you know Dm. Venus?" he asked.

The stunned expressions on their faces made me burst into laughter. "Ahahaha! Ohh, you jest! Why, I'm a dear friend of her grandfather, Euan. Come now, don't you recognise me? Think a little harder if you must. It will come to you eventually."

Albert and Francesco looked at one another again. One said, "I'm afraid Dm. Venus can't see you on such short notice, but we could send Drk. Euan down to see you, if you'd like."

I hesitated, wondering if Dm. Venus truly was unavailable right now, or if they were simply making excuses for her. Then again, it was nearly noon. Dm. Charite, Triplet of the Afternoon, would have taken up her shift firing love arrows by now. As Triplet of the Morning, Venus' shift of distributing love throughout the universe ran from midnight until about 8 o'clock. It was probably only 9 at the moment, so she was very likely resting after the constant loading and reloading of her bow. "Yes, well… Do send him down. It's been so long since we've spoken, and I'm sure he'll be delighted to see me."

Both cherubs nodded, in slow motion. Mona and I retreated to the padded bench on the far side of the entry room. When we sat, she brought her mouth very near my head and whispered, "I don't really recall you being friends with Drk. Euan Eros."

I twitched my ears. As far as the rest of the Castle knew, my nearly 70,000 years of absence had been spent wandering the cloudlands and the cosmos beyond. Mona was the only one who knew the truth about Liloei's lamp, which was almost unfortunate, as it deprived me of excuses. "Well, it got us in, didn't it?"

We listened in silence for the sound of feathered wingbeats in the corridor. After a moment, she turned and whispered, "But how will you make it last?"

"Just leave that to me, darling. I know what I'm doing." The moment Drk. Euan  _poof_ ed into the centre of the lobby in a grand spiral of sparks and dust, I bounded up to him and threw my arms around his torso. "Huey!"

Drk. Euan grabbed my shoulders in his enormous hands, then pushed me off. I laughed, batting his fingers away as he pulled back his hands.

"Oh, even with these horrendous anti-eyes, I can tell Mother Nature's aged you kindly." Though, he'd gained a rather paunchy stomach over the years. I decided to keep that thought to myself, at least until I could think up a good zinger for it.

"I heard I was wanted," Drk. Euan drawled, squinting terribly. Poor eyesight was a family curse.

"Of course! Why, it's wonderful to see you again after all these millennia. It's Clarice, you know!"

He kept his fists where they were, one hovering near his cheek and the other draping from his folded arm. "What?"

"Clarice! You remember. Don't say you've forgotten; I was here for work bright and sunshine-early every day, year upon year."

I knew they were all staring at me, Mona included. My arms remained spread, hands upturned, but I stretched them just a bit further in the hopes that Drk. Euan would recognise my cheerful disposition. I kept my grin in place and even nodded at him.

"You're an anti-fairy," he finally said. "I've never dealt personally with Anti-Fairies. Not even my own."

 _"Clarice,"_  I emphasised, close to tears with exasperation. "That was your nickname for me; you remember. Well, technically Stamp's the one who gave it to me first, but you know how it is. You called me Clarice, I called you Huey. Really, Euan, I'm surprised at you. My face isn't one that's easily forgotten, especially around here."

Drk. Euan turned to the cherubs behind the front desk. Albert had a crystal ball swirling with an incoming call just half a metre from his hand, but they were both staring at us. "I don't know who these people are," Drk. Euan said. "They're wasting my time."

"Huey!" I cried, aghast.

"Yes, sir."

"Our bad, sir."

Drk. Euan gave a short nod and disappeared with another  _poof._  I shoved my wand between my fangs and bit down hard, pulling on both ends.  _"Oooh!_  The nerve of him. I say, is that any way to treat an old friend? Gods, he's an ungrateful lout."

Mona began to speak, but my ears snapped backwards, tracking the whispers behind me. Albert and Francesco. Rather than answer the crystal ball, they'd begun to gossip in low voices about the names I'd dropped. 'Vinnie' especially. I turned around, and they broke off. Albert finally answered the incoming call, while Francesco leaned across the desk, folding his hands.

"Yes, um. I just want to extend my apologies to both of you if your visit to the Nest today seems to have been a… waste."

I kicked the tile with my crumpled toes. "He doesn't remember me. Can you even believe that? After everything I did for him."

The cherub cleared his throat. "Perhaps I can interest you and your companion in a private tour of our facility?"

"Yes, yes, perhaps you might, but… Oh, drat!" I slipped my hands beneath my armpits, reasonably cross, I should say. "Hmph. In all honesty, I wish I could return to work here. Not to pick up my previous duties, of course, but I desire to be on the other side of things, taking notes and such. I'm interested in the study of Fairykind reproduction, you know. Oh dear, this isn't how I'd planned to begin this conversation. I realise it may sound crazy, me being an Anti-Fairy and all, but are there any possible opportunities you might consider extending to me, for the sake of my garnering experience in raising and possibly breeding some of the creatures you do care for in your facility? Perhaps I could show up to a few volunteer weekends here or there? I'm willing to work through Fairy holidays…"

Albert and Francesco exchanged yet another look. After a moment, Francesco said, "We… might be able to use you on our team. Without disclosing confidential details, Dm. Venus recently took on a new project. You  _did_ say you're interested in Fairykind reproduction?"

I nodded. "Certainly. Researching Fairykind reproduction has been my life's work since I was eight years old. I've read thousands of texts on the subject in multiple languages, and even from multiple planets.

Mona agreed with another nod.

"Might be just the position you're looking for," Albert announced. Francesco elbowed him in the side.

"Well. You have to realise it isn't our place to guarantee anything. However, if you would be interested in taking our tour, Albert and I can get in contact with the other members of the team, and possibly schedule an internship for you."

My wings lifted. I laughed and brushed my fingers through my hair. "Really? Oh yes, I would appreciate that immensely, thank you." At least I'd have the opportunity to see the genies now, and perhaps I could tip off my tour guide that I had a young genie of my own who could use a mate in the future. Certainly I'd need to visit the Anti-Fairies… Perhaps I might see Anti-Wanda again. I could introduce her to Mona. They'd get along swimmingly with one another- of this, I was quite sure. They both carried themselves with a bounce in their wings and a constant smile on their lips, although Mona's was cautious and humble, and Anti-Wanda's bold and adventuring. Oh, the stories we could swap… Anti-Wanda raised in the Eros Nest, me raised in a genie lamp, Anti-Wanda's affections for Anti-Juandissimo, Mona's for me, Anti-Wanda's fluffy curls, my eternally unruly scruff…

Francesco rang a white bell near his hand. Down the corridor, a door flew open. Instant wingbeats raced into the hall. Mona and I both turned to greet the frazzled, black-haired, bright-cheeked, tan-skinned drake who shot towards us like an arrow. Just outside the room, however, he pulled up his wings and landed on the floor. His eyes remained downcast. He held a clipboard in front of his waist, his forearms covering most of it and his hands wrapped around its bottom edge. When he bowed to Francesco, he spread his wings in that way Seelie always seemed to do to their high superiors. I waited for him to look up when he straightened his back again, but he kept his gaze firmly on the tile.

Although… his reason for doing so wasn't  _entirely_  shyness. I could sense faint hints of his emotions in the energy field, for instead of anxious, shifting footstep sounds pouring from his aura in endless waves, I picked up the steaming, bubbling noise that you hear when water boils over a low fire. There he stood, mute and servile, like a broken show pony.

"Juandissimo," Francesco greeted with a flourish. He spoke the word like a command, not a greeting. Still, that must be this new drake's name. He was young, I imagined. Older than me by about the same amount Anti-Wanda was. Which of course made sense, given that his counterpart was courting her. He kept his hair tied back, low. I tilted my head. Could the cherubs sense what Mona and I could? If so, did they even care? Juandissimo, clear as day, did not enjoy his work here at the Nest. Someone had forced this young drake to comply with rules he didn't agree with. Bitterness wreathed around him like paper flowers on a seasonal trellis.

Then the sound of cart wheels roaring down a dark dirt path hit my ears. I could hear the lantern swinging, casting light in all directions, and the howl of the wind rattling branches above. It boomed like thundering drums. I gasped aloud, pressing two claws against my lips. It  _couldn't_  be. But the sound of his aura…

"Oh! Why, you're not a legitimate fairy at all! You're a  _luz mala!"_

Juandissimo did not reply. He did not nod, or flinch, or anything. He only stared at the floor, clutching his clipboard. I clapped my hands, unable to suppress the bouncing of my toes.

"Oooh, this is splendid! I've an interest in breeding genies, you know, and to actually meet a  _luz mala_ in the flesh, in modern times… I mean, I'm speechless. To stumble across a Fairy born of magic instead of natural means?  _Genie_  magic, too? Yes, you sound faintly like falling roses veiled in creek water, with a hint of flickering candles and rustling lavender on the side. Now  _that's_  uncommon. Ha! What are the odds? You're incredibly rare, you know, and I'm so very honoured to make your acquaintance, good sir. I truly am."

I held out my downturned palms, and both cherubs behind me inhaled at the same time. Oh. I faltered, my hands dropping just a tad, but I refused to lower them altogether. Juandissimo, his aura sounding more like a wheezing frog than simmering broth now, did not raise his head. He didn't touch me, either.

"You are not meant to speak to me, señor," he said, quietly. Though his comment was halting, he spoke with a powerful Elrulian accent, and all his 's' words began with soft 'eh' sounds.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry." Finally, I did pull back my hands, crinkling my forehead. "Are you that busy? Do forgive me. I didn't mean to be a bother. Though, I do hope you could make time for me in your schedule one of these days. As I said, it's truly a delight to come face to face with a  _luz mala_ in person. I never really expected it to happen within my lifetime. I mean, it's simply… Wow!" My hands flew to my temples. "Fomorian influence, you know what I mean? I've read about the technical aspects, but it's absolutely fascinating, isn't it? And I've met your anti-self, you know, but I never realised the two of you were nurtured within the same womb… It's just  _incredible_  to contemplate. A fairy and an anti-fairy, brothers of the same blood-water! Ha! You're so rare, and it's so fortunate I bumped into you here, and I just… Would you sign my passport?"

Juandissimo turned his head away, lifting the clipboard to his chest. "Señor, please, do not speak to me. I will show you what we have on our agenda today. Please come along."

"Oh, don't concern yourself too much with giving me the grand tour, darling- I know the way. I used to work here, you know. I'd rather hear about you!" As he began to flutter along the corridor, I kept pace beside him, clasping my hands. "Again, I must apologise. I'm so very sorry, and I say, I must be coming off as a ridiculous pest, ahaha. It's just that I'm rather star-struck. Really, I've spent years researching  _luz mala._ It would have been decades, if there were more research out there than current literature provides. You see, there was once a time when I believed you were the answer to cracking the secrets of the Anti-Fairy reproduction system, and ending the need for the honey-lock once and for all!"

 _"Por favor,_  señor." Juandissimo closed his eyes. He continued flying forward anyway. "I am low and disgraceful. My fae blood is contaminated with impure magic. You are not to speak to me, and if the Eros family hear of this, you will get me into such trouble."

I stopped mid-beat. My wings stalled for a moment, the magic in my skin keeping me airborne for a few seconds longer. But then my feet landed on the ground. "'Low and disgraceful'? Nonsense! Why, you embody the primal missing link between Fairies and the ancient Aos Sí your people evolved from. You ought to be studied for the sake of scientific advancement, so we can increase our understanding of Fairykind anatomy. We're such difficult creatures to study, you know, when our people turn to dust and smoke upon our deaths…"

Without turning around, Juandissimo said, "I am being studied every day. The Eros family are very thorough in their work. Please follow me, señor."

I turned to Mona, and gestured after Juandissimo with both hands. In my lowest voice, I squealed, "He's biologically considered a fairy, but he was brought into existence with magic. Genie magic, if I am not mistaken- Yes, I do believe it was a genie. Wishbirthed! Can you even believe it? You can hear it in his imprint too, can't you?  _That_ , Mona, is the sound of a child who lacks a true mother; genies cannot honey-lock, of course, so when that much magic was forced upon a body, the honey-lock instantaneously reversed and his father had triplets. It doesn't even work that way for Boudacians. Oh, I simply must bring him something for his birthday. It's common misconception that all  _luz mala_ are born on the 24th of August, you know, just as we Anti-Fairies are always born on Friday the 13th. Well, not me, of course, but you know what I mean. Anyhow, I really must ask him when his actual birthday is. Isn't he simply delightful? I do love him so very much."

Mona smiled a thin smile, and placed a finger to her lips. "Take notes now, talk tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, of course, darling… But a  _luz mala!_  Here! I mean, if he were going to be anywhere it would be here, but isn't it fascinating? Oh, if I could but ask his father what it felt like to carry an anti-fairy pup and a fairy refract chick within his womb…"

Juandissimo led us through the winding paths of the Eros Nest, moving quite quickly and accurately for someone who still refused to look up. I wondered what colour his eyes were, and if I'd have the chance to find out before he left us today. He seemed determined to prevent that from happening. Gaze on the floor, he said crisply, "Please permit me to share with you some vocabulary, señor. You will wish to use it today. A  _holotype_  is the first identified member of his species, and is the one that all future members of a species are compared to in order to decide what it is that we call 'normal' or 'abnormal' for a species. Other members of the species that follow who are the same sex as the holotype are known to be  _paratypes_. Third, a specimen used for study in place of the holotype, if the holotype is dead, or which we keep at the Nest for official study should our holotype require movement to another location, are  _neotypes_. _"_

I clapped my hands before he even finished. "Yes, yes, that's me! Read 'em and weep, I say!"

Juandissimo paused, his wings jerking. He turned his head very slightly, but kept his gaze rooted on his shoes. His tied hair slipped forward over one shoulder. "Ah, forgive my correction, señor, but you are what is known as an  _allotype_. The common anti-fairy holotype, Anti-Finella Anti-Sunbeam, was a damsel. You are the opposite sex of the holotype, and this means you would be called an allotype, instead of a paratype. Do you see?"

I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers and curling my claws. "Oh, right. How foolish. Forgive me, for my awareness seems to have slipped for a moment. Yes, well. Being an allotype is fine, too."

Reaching the Fairykind enclosures would take some time. Our tour led us past several alien reptiles, and when I requested it, Juandissimo allowed us to detour. He, Mona, and I fell into step behind a little drake with bright scarlet hair and red freckles across his cheeks. Juandissimo kept the two of us between himself and the child, so I ended up a mere two handspans away from him. At that very moment, his father lifted him above the railing and pointed through the window glass into the water tank below.

"Did you know there exists a bird that cleans a Snobulac's teeth?" he asked his son.

My ears snapped forward. What? I glanced at them both, trying not to look like I was eavesdropping.

"Is that like the bird that cleans the rhino's ears?" the freckled child asked.

"That's right," said the older drake, clearly enjoying this. He ran his fingers through his son's frizzy hair. "The bird and the Snobulac trust each other. The Snobulac enjoys clean teeth, and the bird enjoys a snack. They both help each other, and they're both happy."

"Oh!" The little drake turned to his father, tapping on the glass. "They're like a gyne and drone."

My knuckles tightened on the rail in front of me.

"Yes, exactly. And, did you know that wild foops and ravens hunt together? The ravens can spy dying or dead animals from far away, but their beaks can't open a carcass. They have to wait for the foops to arrive. Then they all eat together. They work as a team."

The freckled drake grinned. "I want to have drones! We'll be like knights who rescue kittens and punch bad guys out the door!"

His father chuckled and returned him to the floor. They floated on. I stared into the grimy water tank, deaf to the soft conversation of the other patrons around me.

"It's a myth," I whispered to Mona. She turned, pricking up her ears.

"Mm?"

"That… thing he said. It's not true. I looked it up once. There is no bird that enters a reptile's mouth to 'clean its teeth.' It's all make-believe; the Snobulacs invented it a mere century before they began conquering some of the avian races of the universe. I mean, it doesn't make evolutionary sense to require a bird to clean one's teeth, does it now? It's nonsense and clever marketing."

"Oh," Mona said. She looked into the tank again, at the great reptile drifting through the water, eyes sunken and staring. Her shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, dear," I said, giving her a gentle hug with one arm. "I shouldn't have said that. Now I've gone and tainted your fun."

"No," she murmured. "I'm right as rain, thank you."

"The Fairies believe it. I shouldn't have spoiled it for you."

"It's nice to know."

Regardless, I pondered what the Fairy father had said to his child. He'd been so keen to assure the lad that gyne and drone relationships were mutual and natural. And I'd wanted to step forward and denounce his claims.  _The drones don't want that_ , I'd have said, as if I actually knew anything about drones at all. If our cultures were reversed, and it was Anti-Fairies who engaged in regular gyne and drone preening, what would I think of some smarty-pants Fairy telling me our practices weren't right?

They weren't, obviously. Fairies and Anti-Fairies deserved equal rights and respect. I was willing to fight not only for my people, but for Fairy drones too. I mean, it's wrong to treat another living person as such a blatant, lowly subordinate… right? As a harbinger of bad luck, I understand why people might call me "evil," and I acknowledge their right to that opinion, but even if I am evil by their standards, at least I'm not  _rude_. That's why I supported  _Waterberry v. Reddinski._

I… I don't know. Maybe all this stuff about gynes and drones wasn't a subject I wanted to form an opinion on yet. Even if I had preened with Mickey before.

"The oxpecker and rhinoceros relationship is real, at least," I told Mona, hoping to cheer her up. I left out the part about how the bird was practically a parasite itself. When she turned, she smiled at me softly.

"I'm grateful and glad."

We left the reptile hall. Juandissimo guided us through his scripted tour on our way to see the Fairykind, though I didn't listen to most of it. The wide corridor we had just stepped into stung me with its familiarity. I stared down the hall in the opposite direction Juandissimo and Mona were looking. Juandissimo was saying something, and I interrupted him.

"I want to visit the will o' the wisps and see if anything has changed. Oh," I cried, spinning towards our guide. "I'm terribly sorry- I cut you off. Do go on."

Juandissimo hesitated. "The tour is yours, señor."

"Is it now? Then I want to see the will o' the wisps right away."

"I'm bemused," Mona chirped. "I basically betted on you beelining for your beloved genies first."

I blinked. Then I shook out my wings. "Oh. Yes, of course. That's what I meant. Just a slip of the brain. Let's go see the genies."

So Juandissimo took us to find the genies. Their enclosure wasn't as large as I expected considering how big genies were- twice as tall as we Fairykind, easily. All their soil was red, and a glimpse at their podium plaque indicated it had been imported from Planet Mars itself. So Mona's theory was true, then. The genies must require iron to live. Hmm. I searched up and down, but could only count two genies in total: A female with a shimmering lime green tail curled in a fork of the farthest tree, and a purple-blue male sunning himself on the russet rocks.

"Oh dear," I murmured, tightening my grip on Mona's hand. "He's quite a bit older than I was hoping for. He might be full grown and everything. I do hope Lohai won't end up with him."

Mona tilted her head. "The Nest does only have two. Chances are, they've been here for a while."

"True." Still, I frowned. "You know, I'm not seeing any baby candles. Genies are notoriously frisky, so I thought there might be at least a few about. I wonder what the Eroses do with them. Surely they would have some? Their whole thing is species conservation, after all. Hmm. Never mind that now. Let's go see the will o' the wisps. You'll love their enclosure, darling. It's the most gorgeous little thing, full of springy flowers in all sorts of colours. Their theme is 'woodland fantasy,' you know."

She hummed in amusement, floating after me. "It really must be something if you remember it that well."

"What? Oh, no. Actually, I've never been down that far in the Nest. I just… know what it looks like. I must have seen it in a book. You know how Anti-Fairy memories are."

Patient, obedient Juandissimo led the way without a word of complaint. My wings sagged when I saw our destination, so I landed silently on the floor. A large, open viewing area took up a large portion of the wall, by which I mean that it sounded like glass when I used my echolocation to see it. To the left side stood a podium plaque bearing descriptive information regarding the will o' the wisp race. I ignored it for now, as my eyes were drawn immediately above it. Pinned on a display to the wall, encased in a solid frame, was the actual portion of Ilisa's right wing which had been uncovered from the Soil Temple following the collapse. Torn off by falling debris mere moments before she'd died, it hadn't turned to dust with the rest of her body. Imagine that. They'd wanted to do that to her anyway, you know. Surgically remove her wings when she began getting on in years. If she hadn't been granted her freedom from the Eros Nest in order to serve in the war, they would have. The Eros Triplets. I blinked at the display, and flew up to touch my hand against the smudged glass.

"Dear," Mona scolded. "It definitely declares 'Don't dare touch.'"

I ignored her, pressing my second hand beside the first. Yes, yes, I know fae wings being donated to science isn't particularly unusual, especially courtesy of tomtes who lack the magic required to fly anyway, but this was  _Ilisa's_  wing. Leaning my nose against the glass, I squinted against the small lights within the frame. The soft wing was orange, swirled with intricate black and brown patterns. Tiny scales coated its surface. White spots speckled the tips.

"She entered the undercloud tunnels not realising it would be the last time she ever flew," I muttered, bowing my head. "She gave her life to save the Mulberry Division. No one knows whether it was accidental."

Mona and Juandissimo were both silent, and after a moment, I peeled my forehead and fingertips away. My attention wandered to the glass window on my right. None of the wisps on the other side flew up to greet me, or acknowledged my presence in any way. Can you believe that? Such ungrateful creatures. They lounged in a circle, giggling with one another and braiding each other's long hair, the damsels with their bright wings and the drakes with their dull brown ones. Well. All right, then. I slid along the wall, scanning the enclosure on the other side of the glass in its entirety. True to my memory, there were flowers everywhere. A grey pond. Rocks. A small wooden cabin sat in the back right corner, fenced off by a glass wall. I nudged Mona, then jumped my finger from one wisp to the next.

"That's Ribbon, you know. Sweet little thing. That's Dex. That's Winden. That's Celia. That's Flow."

"Wait." Mona shot me a peculiar look. "Which one was Dex?"

I paused. My claw scraped down the glass, scratching loudly. I pulled it to my chest. "I… don't know. The thought is gone now. Good smoke, my head. That's strange. Why can't I… remember…?"

Something was blocking the memory, trying to hold it back even as slips of it leaked around the edges. I rubbed my temples, then looked up again. My eyes locked onto the cabin in the rear corner of the enclosure, and I swallowed. My hands trembled.

"Oh. Oh. This is where they did it. That's where they brought her."

"Who?" Mona followed my gaze. "Ilisa Maddington?"

Silence. I stared at the cabin for a long moment, my shoulders shaking. Then I slammed both my fists against the glass.  _Thump!_  I screeched at the top of my voice- so much so that Mona and Juandissimo both slapped their hands over their ears.

 _"Huey!_ You _KNEW!_  It's not an antidote. It's a poison! A POISON! How many did you paralyse?  _How many?"_

"Julius?" Mona asked quietly. Her words broke my concentration. I blinked hard. Just twice. My wings snapped down. My fists went flat, cold palms pressed to smudged glass. Then I turned my head, pricking up my ears.

"Yes, darling? Did you say something?"

Mona took hold of my shoulders and rotated me around, so I faced Juandissimo instead of the wisps. His eyes darted to the floor before I could glimpse their colour. She whispered, "I guess we're gonna go."

"Go? Oh, no, that simply isn't possible! I haven't finished showing you around. See here, darling." I adjusted my monocle and peered down at the will o' the wisp plaque. "Ah! 'Will o' the wisps, colloquially shortened to 'wisps', are one of the most famous subspecies of Fairy. They are distinctly identifiable by their large, lightweight  _lepidoptera_  wings. Female wisps show bright patterns while males come in varying shades of brown and gray. Their natural habitat was once the cloudlands of Fairy World. However, difficult circumstances' - that's a polite way of saying 'extreme social prejudice,' believe you me - 'drove them from the cloudlands down to Planet Earth. The will o' the wisps disappeared into hiding underground and have since carved out intricate burrow systems where they live and raise their nymphs.'"

"Julius," Mona mumbled, tugging on her amauti sleeve.

"In a moment, darling. 'A group of wisps is called a procession. Will o' the wisp structure is matriarchal. Wisps form reverse harems, with one damsel claiming on average 2-4 drakes as her own. A wisp of high status may have as many as 12 regular partners. A wisp damsel can nurse up to four nymphs each breeding season, although the majority do not survive to adulthood (Daughters are especially susceptible to the effects of poor environmental conditions). Wisp damsels who present the gene for  _lepidoptera_  wings are known as 'butterfly damsels,' or 'dotties.' The dam shows clear favoritism towards her dottie offspring, a-and will kill any daughter who does not present the gene unless her nymphs are taken from her at once.'"

My voice cracked on those last words. I covered my mouth, blinking against my tears. "I remember that. Sh-she needed control. There's no other excuse for it. It wasn't to prevent them from other tortures the Eros Nest might inflict upon them. She simply wanted her wing mutation to survive. She thought her lovers went behind her back, and didn't believe her non-dottie children were her own. So she did it. She woke up one day and decided to kill them. It was the only part of her life she could control. It's horrible, really. It's horrible and I realise that, but we really shouldn't blame her. She didn't know. If she'd known they were hers, she never would have done it."

"Precious, please pause perusing. You're upsetting yourself."

"No. 'The species are true omnivores, although their usual diet patterns more closely mimic those of herbivores. The chemicals in their venom sacs reflect the hypothesis that a wisp kiss is a watered-down version of the deadly brownie kiss, further supported by the fact that Ilisa was a close descendant of Ky Braddocki himself. Even brief exposure to will o' the wisp venom is capable of paralyzing one's limbs for many minutes. The antidote for a wisp kiss is-'"

"Hey," Mona interrupted. "Look at that."

I tore my focus from the plaque, glancing into the enclosure after her pointing finger. I couldn't tell what had caught her interest, as none of the wisps appeared to be doing anything particularly interesting. But this time, I took her hint and held my tongue.

We didn't speak much on our way home to Hy-Brasil. Mona didn't bring up the will o' the wisps for the first tram ride of our journey, and neither did I. I spent the trip hugging my knees, gazing out the window at smears of fairy floss clouds passing by.

"It's repulsive," Mona said once. I looked at her, and she clarified, "That Ilisa really rid reality of her own dear daughters."

Exhaling, I squeezed my hands around my knees and said, "If she knew in advance she could not provide enough resources for both her genetic offspring and those that she believed to be illegitimate, then it was appropriate to end the suffering of the ones she couldn't care for and send them to their next incarnation."

"… Fairies don't believe in reincarnation."

"Ilisa did. She favoured the Zodii teachings, not the Daoist beliefs. Anyone Zodii can reincarnate. Even Fairies."

"You don't know that." Mona held my gaze, narrowing her eyes. She flipped the hood of her amauti over her frizzy hair and hunkered down. "It was certainly speculated she studied Zodii stories seriously, but no one ever confirmed. She  _killed_  her own kin. You can't excuse that with her beliefs."

Tilting back my head, I said, "I'm not saying I endorse infanticide, no, but I understand her reasoning. She was holotype of the will o' the wisp race. A child with  _lepidoptera_  wings was undeniably hers. Most Fairy crossbreeds carry blended wings. However, wisp wings are so different from any other variety that they're either there or they aren't; Ilisa only passed her mutation on half the time. She thought the wing gene was dominant, so when some of her daughters didn't carry it, she assumed they couldn't be hers. She killed these 'illegitimate' nymphs to ensure the survival of her dotties. I can't fault her for that."

"Ex _cuse_  me?"

"I'm looking at this situation from a purely biological standpoint, darling. When discussing ways to assure the continuation of one's genetic line, one must never fail to mention the removal of competition from the breeding pool." Cocking one arm behind my head, I gave my other hand a swirl. "I certainly can't say I agree with the drastic methods Ilisa employed before the Eros Triplets intervened, but I do understand why she felt so hurt when she believed her lovers had betrayed her. Do recall that Fairy fathers don't carry their nymph within their brood pouch for only thirteen days before passing him along to the mother so she might carry him to term. Fairies do not honey-lock and their reproduction is wholly internal, so the mother cannot know absolutely whether her partner's offspring is her own. Ilisa made a choice to save her species from extinction. I'm simply acknowledging her reasons. Why, I myself could never truly love a child knowing they aren't actually mine, you know what I mean?"

Mona frowned. She sat up, bracing her palms on the cushioned seat. "No? What if my honey-lock partner is a drake, and I perhaps prepare for pregnancy one day? Possibly when you and I are  _married_  in the eyes of the nature spirits, and my pup is practically yours?"

I jerked my attention back to her. "Oh! Oh, no. Mona, I… I didn't mean it like that. Why, of  _course_  I'll stand by your side and support your pups with all my energy. You are to become my wife one day, after all. I only meant to say I understand why Ilisa favoured the survival of her own genetic offspring over anyone else's, and with all my research and theories, I believe I may finally be close to-"

"Your  _theories."_ Mona burrowed her hands in her sleeves and leaned forward, pressing her arms tight against her stomach. "Julius, give it  _up._  You've been chasing trails into dead ends for 130,000 years. No Anti-Fairy has ever discovered a way to reproduce 'round the honey-lock. Why are you so sure that you'll succeed?"

My jaw slackened. I stared at her, my fists tightening behind my head. "You don't think I can? Why, if anyone will unravel this mystery, it's I. I'm the smartest anti-fairy who's ever lived!"

"It's 'me,'" she corrected, ducking her head. I flushed. We didn't speak to each other again for days.

Three weeks later, I had a job. The pay was incredibly low and I wouldn't see a coin of it until after my first six months, but it was in Fairy World, at the  _Eros Nest_   _itself_ , so I accepted the offer. My first day, I dressed in my neatest clothes and carried Lohai in her carpet bag over one shoulder. Upon my arrival at the Nest, I was greeted by an incredibly tall cherub named Asher, who congratulated me on joining Dm. Venus' "secret project." He said he supposed he could put me to work filling out ethograms.

"Filling out what?" I asked, finally tearing my attention away from his nerve-wracking muscles.

"We'd like you to monitor the pixies' behaviours for us so we can tailor our enrichment program to meet their needs," he told me patiently.

Pixies? Did he say  _pixies?_  Perhaps I'd misheard him. "Pixiu?" I asked, already dreading the thought of dealing with those stubborn, solitary, overprotective spirits of wealth and friendship.

"Pixies."

I was none the wiser.

"Oh," I realised as I tailed him down the corridor. "You want me to observe these pixies and determine when they are bored, so you can give them something to do, and then have me note whether they seem satisfied when it's over."

Asher chuckled. "I wouldn't have used the word 'bored' with these fellows, but yes, that's what I'd like you to do."

The comment puzzled me for a moment, but I found out what he meant soon enough when he stopped in front of the very last chamber in the hall and waved his hand. "Julius, as a representative of the Eros Nest, I am proud to introduce you to our pixies."

There it was on the plaque fixed beside their door, plain as moonlight.  _Pixies: Faedivus quadratum_. I blinked at it twice. The subspecies was entirely new to me. But sure enough, when I peeked at the large enclosure on the other side of the glass, I could plainly spy two "pixies" sitting beneath the tallest of the synthetic trees. The first was large, with square wings, shoulders as broad as his hips, and a scruff of black hair that ended in twin peaks at the front. My lips parted. My fingers loosened from the strap at my shoulder.

_Mr. Whimsifinado._

He'd gotten a new hat sometime in the last three thousand years: a pointed grey one with a long tail that dangled down his back. It ended with a metal star. He dressed in more casual clothes than the vest he'd worn to Sugarslew, but I didn't have a doubt in my mind that that was him. And his nephew Mister too, tearing up handfuls of lush grass. And Anti-Fergus, as green and yellow as ever! And a tiny Anti-Mister! Or, well, one of his tiny anti-nephews, anyway. I leaned my hands against the rail below the glass window, blinking in absolute shock.

"Why- pixies are Fairykind! How can that be? I always thought I knew every fae species in existence."

Asher nodded. "They're rare. Stay here for a minute, and I'll  _poof_  off and grab the data sheets I want you to use in your observations."

He  _poof_ ed off, leaving me alone with the plaque on the podium. "Hmm," I mused. I adjusted my monocle and squinted at it. "'Pixies are an all-male subspecies of Fairies who universally share identical genetics, and are tied to a single yoo-doo doll. They are distinctly identifiable by the sharp angles of their faces, black hair, lavender eyes, square wings, golden brown costas, stunted hindwings, and rapid way of striking anything or anyone they deem prey. Adult pixies are considerably tall and broad-shouldered.'"

Next panel. "'Most notably, the young develop in the sire's forehead chamber, and not in the lower body as one might expect. This is due to the high amounts of cytoplasm surrounding their eggs. A fertile adult gives birth to one nymph at a time by ejecting the newborn (encased in a hexagonal exoskeleton until instar) from his forehead dome. The race is inherently parasitic, given that the nymph must be nursed either by hand or (most commonly) by the lactating damsel of another race. However, all adult pixies are capable of supplying magic for secondary nursing until the nymph's sweat glands fully develop and allow for the Principle of Observation (the self-defense mechanism of the sweat glands that release an aura which makes it difficult for non-magical creatures to focus on them) to occur. As is the case in most species which reproduce at high rates, the sire has limited interest in raising his many young.

"'A group of pixies is called a company, and the social structure consists of a single dominant gyne (identifiable by his facial spots and larger size) who claims available damsels and preens his drones. If left unchecked, the dominant drake will kill subordinate gynes well before adulthood. There are no kabouter members of the race.

"'The species is omnivorous, but must intake high amounts of protein each day to maintain proper health. Additionally, samples of chemicals found in pixie saliva indicate that pixies have developed extreme resistance to alkaloids such as caffeine, allowing them to consume with no apparent adverse effects caffeine amounts (i.e. coffee, chocolate) which would kill any other member of the Seelie Court.

"'Pixies initiate sexual interest with plucking fingers and gently nipping teeth, and they are considered a critically endangered species, with only one fertile member of the population in existence at this time. Due to a mutation in their genes, anti-pixies are green and yellow instead of blue and black, while pixie refracts are brown and purple instead of white and gold.'"

Those were the facts, presented plain and simply like our innocent fae brethren were animals on display. I looked back and forth a few times between the simple painting of a naked pixie on the plaque (square-faced, arms by his sides, pointed grey hat floating above his head) and the living pixies on the opposite side of the glass. Hm. I shrugged. "Well then, fair enough. Pixies exist, and Mr. Whimsifinado and his nephews happen to belong to their subspecies. Emery must have paired with the fertile drake."

I considered that for a moment, then decided to reconstruct my view of the Whimsifinado family. Emery might not have any relation to Mister at all, which would explain her notable lack of a wedding band. If Mister was Fergus' nephew, then Fergus' brother must be the only fertile pixie in existence today (currently penned in a horrid old breeding room much like Ilisa's cabin, if I were to venture a guess). Those two must share the same pixie father. Perhaps Ambrosine had adopted his son shortly before the War of the Sunset Divide broke out. That would line up with what Mr. Whimsifinado had told me at Sugarslew, about never knowing who his mother was.

Still, I shook my head and adjusted the strap of Lohai's carpet bag against my shoulder. "I say, I had really better sign up for a Fairy Races class when I begin Upper School before these fellows go extinct. With only one fertile member of the population left, it would seem they're on their way out. Hm. Shame."

Asher returned with another  _poof_ , and presented me with a stack of crisp parchment. Once I had taken it, he moved to the end of the hall and pushed open the Employee's Only door. "We're going up to the observation deck," he said. "Everyone up there is an employee hard at work, so please keep your voice low."

That didn't sound easy to do, but I nodded anyway. We flew up the steps, and I quickly found myself in a very low-roofed room crowded with pink desks and fluttery white feathers. I counted eight cherubs gathered in a row near the front window. Everyone had water flasks and several picked-through food trays, as though they'd been here for days on end. There really wasn't anything else notable to see.

Asher gestured towards one purple-haired cherub with his wing. "That's Kendra. As you can see, she's currently monitoring the pixies to ensure they don't engage in any self-destructive behaviour. If they do, she'll use that yoo-doo doll on the table to stop them."

Indeed, a small doll with black hair lay between her hands. A thin thrill of power raced down my spine. "Will I ever work my way up to that point?"

"We'll see. For obvious reasons, only very trusted staff are permitted to handle yoo-doo dolls. You'd need to have five hundred years of work experience and pass a certification course before we so much as let you touch it."

"I understand." My mind wandered to Lohai, snug in her carpet bag at my side. How long would I have to work at the Eros Nest before I worked up the courage to request the Triplets allow her to breed? She was but a child for now, so I had at least that much time to devise my plans.

"Now. Like all Fairykind, pixies are Class B beings. By law, we have to provide them with enrichment every day." Asher crouched down between two cherubs busily scribbling notes, and pulled a box from underneath the table. This, he held out to me. "Today, we're going to give them puzzle pyramids with some animal crackers slipped inside them. Pixies like puzzles and animal crackers."

"Excuse me," I said without thinking. I realised too late that I'd interrupted to change the topic, but forged on anyway. "Er, where did the pixies come from, may I ask?"

Asher shrugged. "They're fairy mutations, like Ilisa Maddington and Ky Braddocki."

"The first will o' the wisp and brownie," I recalled. I touched my fingertips to the side of my head. "I've done a lot of reading about Ilisa, you know. I'm interested in all walks of fae reproduction, so her name of course comes up quite a bit. Is it true that she was stunningly beautiful?"

"The most beautiful," he assured me, shifting the enrichment box in his arms.

I looked away, my cheeks seething. Yes, I  _know_  what I'd asked, but Ilisa had always wished to be remembered for her intelligence and clever wit. Not her beauty. She'd been very clear. My fist tightened around my satchel strap. "A-and, you kept her here in the Nest, breeding her with as many drakes as possible in an effort to spread her genes? Over one million times?"

"Not me," Asher insisted. "I wasn't born yet."

I supposed not. Ooh. I tried to imagine what that might be like, having drake after drake sent in for you to flirt and sing with, or having your sperm siphoned out to distribute behind your back. I found that I could picture the interior of Ilisa's cabin all too well. A dark breeding room like a cage, a pallet of animal skins, a screen door you could never seem to reach, voices chattering on the other side, like something from a daydream…

I shivered, hunching into my shoulders at the thought. Ky Braddocki had been a holotype too, and of course the Eroses had made efforts to breed him to preserve his species just as they had with Ilisa. However, I'd always imagined that she had it so much worse. After all, among Fairies, it was drakes who became pregnant. Ky could only carry one infant brownie at a time. Ilisa could mother hundreds of wisps within a month, provided she was presented with plenty of drakes. Or within a week.

Had she ever wanted to refuse? Wouldn't that be hard, to share the most private parts and thoughts of yourself with thousands of drakes who were strangers? It wasn't exactly a breeding ground for true love.

Oh gods, Asher was talking. I jolted back to attention, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. He was just wrapping up an explanation of the parchments he'd handed me - ethograms, he called them - and requesting that I keep time very carefully in order to be as accurate in my report as possible. I promised him he could count on me, and he left through the employee access door with the enrichment box.

I glanced at the long desk below the window. Every chair was full. I'd been given neither ink nor a quill with my papers. "Um," I mumbled to myself.

The fluffy-haired cherub at the end of the row turned to me and smiled. Before I could so much as open my mouth, she sprang up and offered me her chair. "Oh, no," I protested, flushing cold, but she insisted.

"Take it. I wanted a reason to stretch my legs anyway. I'm Ella."

"Julius."

We held our hands out at the same time. Awkward silence plunged around us. Hastily, I corrected my greeting by turning my hand sideways so I might grasp hers in a shake. She smiled and flicked her hair over her shoulder. No one else so much as glanced at me. I forced a smile, then let it die. All right. I settled into Ella's seat and peered through the window glass. Being on the observation deck, I had an excellent view of the enclosure below. It had been designed to mimic the habitat I assumed pixies might live in were they to run wild. The three thin trees in there were white with black markings and amber leaves, possibly ipewoods. Little wooden houses filled their upper branches. Far below, green grass filled the grounds, accented with shrubs, boulders, and a little dirt walking path. A stream bubbled from a waterfall in the rear corner.

The occupants themselves had suddenly become agitated. That much was certain. Mister had halted his grass-picking. He moved closer to the stream, where Mr. Whimsifinado sat, eyes on the enclosure door. A moment later, Asher floated in. He flew up to the upper portion of one tree, casually placed a puzzle pyramid in the crook of two branches, then left without saying a word. Just one pyramid. The small anti-pixie (too small to be Mister's own counterpart, I thought), ran up to the tree's base and squinted up at it, but neither of the primary counterparts moved for several minutes. Finally, Mister rose to his feet and crept towards the tree. He too stood, shielding his eyes and studying the puzzle pyramid. No one said anything. Then Mister set his hands against the tree trunk and began to scramble up, nimble as a squirrel.

"What are they doing?" I muttered, scribbling notes. "Why don't they simply fly up and grab it?"

Kendra, the cherub with the yoo-doo doll, glanced over at me. "Oh. Pixies can't fly. Anti-pixies can, but pixies can't."

I blinked. "Really? They appear to have functional wings."

"Their magic pools are stunted. They can hover up to eighteen inches above the ground, but they aren't true fliers like other Fairies or your kind. They're set to orient themselves above solid footing." Kendra pointed down into the enclosure at the pixie scaling the tree. He'd gotten quite high, which was making Anti-Fergus visibly uneasy (judging by his constant fur picking and sideways glances). "They can hover above each branch if they beat their wings, but if that branch were to suddenly  _poof_  away beneath them…"

"The pixie falls," I whispered, tightening my grip on my quill.

"Exactly. They're not good with heights. Now watch." Kendra pointed again, as if I wasn't already watching. "The drone is going to pick up the pyramid, but before he examines it, he's going to retreat somewhere he feels safe. Most likely, next to the gyne."

Indeed, Mister picked his way down through the topmost branches, then sprang from the tree and used his wings to float gently back to the grass. He approached his uncle, who had taken no visible interest in the proceedings yet. Mister sat next to him and twisted the top of the puzzle pyramid. Mr. Whimsifinado continued to kneel where he was, his fingers cradling the head of a tall pink flower growing beside the stream.

And then, in the time it would have taken me to blink, he had flipped the younger pixie over and pinned him face-down to the grass, hands to the back of his head. I jumped, bashing my knees against the underside of the desk. The puzzle pyramid bounced out of Mister's hand and towards the water. Mr. Whimsifinado launched himself after it, rolled a single time, caught it, then flashed back to his feet- with an uninterested expression printed across his face. The entire process had taken only two seconds. His hair had already been slightly scruffy near his ears, so he didn't even look as though he'd just tussled with his underling. He hadn't even lost his hat, although the star-tipped tail was now dangling between his eyes.

"Good smoke," I managed. "How am I supposed to document that?"

"Fast, isn't he?" Kendra asked, plopping her chin in her hands.

"I say, I didn't so much as catch any sign that he was going to move. One moment he was sitting there as calmly as a statue. The next, he was on top of Mis- I mean… the drone." I dropped my eyes to my parchment and inked out a brief summary of what I'd just witnessed. When I glanced up again, Mr. Whimsifinado was still standing at the stream bank. He gnawed at one corner of the wooden puzzle pyramid with an air of frustration about him rather than curiosity. Mister sulked in the grass, propped up on his elbows.

Kendra nodded. "Pixies are tricky that way. They're very difficult to read, and they're incredibly fast in short bursts if they've had the time to plan their movements out. If you can interrupt their careful schedules, you'll scramble their brains for a few seconds like they were under a butterfly net, and then you can round them up easily while they're stunned." Her hand strayed towards the yoo-doo doll. "He's going to chew straight through the box to get to the crackers. That's not what we wanted."

She gave the doll three solid taps on the head with her finger. Mr. Whimsifinado froze. Then he looked up at the ceiling. He wasn't focused on our general location, leading me to conclude he didn't know exactly where to find the observation deck, but he took the pyramid away from his mouth. Kendra scratched the doll's back between its little square wings. Once he received the signal, the pixie sat down and began to fiddle with the puzzle using his hands, twisting and sliding pieces back and forth while the others looked on from a respectful distance.

"Is that doll really synced up to the entire pixie race?" I asked, turning to my ethogram again. "Doesn't that cause problems if you hope to use it to punish or reinforce the behaviours of just one, er… specimen?"

"It probably would. But there are only eight pixies in existence right now, and we know where they all are, so we can afford to disrupt them a small amount without arousing ethical issues."

I looked again at the three pixies and two anti-pixies in the enclosure. "Oh."

His species was nearly extinct. Ice rose in my cheeks, settling below my eyes. I ducked my head and clamped the claws on one hand in my hair.

This sort of thing went on for days, then weeks. I applied for Upper School that zodiac cycle, but spent every spare moment of my time in the Eros Nest filing ethograms. Pixies, as it turned out, were largely yawn-inducing for my fellow workers, but I never found myself bored watching them. It was just so… so…  _liberating_  to be on the outside of the cage, tracking behaviour and preparing healthy diets. I found myself gasping in delight when the third pixie in the enclosure (I'd never learned the infant's name; he was simply "the nymph") mastered the ability to perform expert flips mid-flight as he raced from one end of the chamber to the other. I chuckled when Anti-Fergus startled his counterpart with a splash of stream water in the face that initiated a game of push-and-shove, and wept silent tears when the cherubs around me calmly recorded the sound of Mr. Whimsifinado whimpering himself to sleep in the early hours of the morning, long after his companions had retired to bed. The first time I ever witnessed him lift his nephew into his lap and bathe Mister's face softly with his tongue, I took two copies of notes - one for the files, one for me - feeling very grateful to finally steal this glimpse into the tender intimacies of Fairy life.  _That_  was what preening was meant to be. Careful, gentle, sincere, and something that had an instant calming effect on the anxious drone. None of this impersonal rubbish with donor pheromones.

But I am ashamed of myself. I couldn't say for sure precisely when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I found myself naturally referring to Mr. Whimsifinado as "the gyne," his moustached counterpart as "the pilot," and their respective nephews as "the drones." I only noticed how habitual it had become one day approximately 400 years after I'd begun my internship.

Three more pixies, newborns, had joined the others in the enclosure. I'd requested time off to focus on a particularly difficult term in school, so I didn't know all the details of their birth or parentage, and had been too shy to waste anyone's time by asking. A few days after that, during one of my afternoon ethogram recordings, something terribly upset the gyne. The other pixies and anti-pixies in the enclosure frolicked as they usually did, but not the gyne. Not today. He crouched on a boulder beneath the largest tree, his eyes locked on the door and his strange square wings lifted behind him. His too-small pink shirt slid up near his arms when he leaned forward, exposing the faintest glimpse of a slit along his torso. For once, he didn't make the pernickety effort to fix it.

An entire minute passed. He didn't move, and for the smoke of me, I couldn't understand what had him so riled. Then he made a sharp chittering noise with his teeth. Instantly, the nearest newborn pixie abandoned the stream and raced towards him. The gyne lifted one of his arms, allowing the nymph to scramble headfirst into his stomach pouch and disappear. The other pixies scattered. Once the child was secure, the gyne launched himself upwards with a pump of wings. He grabbed the lowest tree branch. Fast as ever. Then he flipped himself on top of it and crawled along until he found a perch he liked. Poised, he stayed there, still focused on the door. Silent. Two wingbeats later, it flew open. Three cherubs marched in, their broad shoulders squared. The gyne backed hand-over-hand up the branch, hunkering low.

I squinted. My quill trembled above my ethogram sheet. "What are they doing?"

"Let's see." Ella glanced down at her own parchments, then slid them over to me. "Ah. It's the fertility question again. The Eroses have been studying his eggs in an attempt to understand pixie fertility, or lack thereof. They believe they may have cracked the code at last. They're going to take the gyne in for another surgery, put him under a sleeping spell, and perform in-vitro fertilisation with sperm drawn from a will o' the wisp. We'll see if it takes."

"He doesn't seem eager to go," I said as the gyne darted to a higher branch in a blur. "His wings are sweeping forward past his shoulders. He's making that twitchy finger gesture. He's showing his teeth." My knuckles tightened around my quill. "Those are his nervous behaviours."

Kendra shrugged her wings, the feathers bunching. "Coincidentally, they're his courtship behaviours too. Or so rumour has it. No matter. If he doesn't offer to go willingly within the next minute, I'll just use the yoo-doo doll."

I glanced over at her, pressing my forefingers into my lips. "Is it ethical to stress him out unnecessarily? Surely there's a gentler way to ease him into the concept."

"Julius?" That was Ella again. She was frowning now. "How about you do your job, and we'll do ours."

I stared into the enclosure for another silent moment. Mister flew back and forth in disarray, wringing his tiny hands. A couple of anti-pixie pups stood off to one side, their eyes round and ears pinned back in fear.

Then I grabbed my access key and shot down the employee stairs. I burst through the lower door just as the three cherubs were dragging Mr. Whimsifinado from the enclosure by the wrists. He dug his heels into the floor, wings spinning wildly. They clashed against the doorframe. Juandissimo hovered a short ways away, scribbling notes on his clipboard, which he kept pressed against his thigh so he could keep his head bowed.

"Stop it," I blurted, squeezing my hand around the door handle. "Let him alone!"

No one even glanced at me. Mr. Whimsifinado's strength came through for him; he yanked his enormous hands away. The blue-haired cherub made a grab for his arm, but Mr. Whimsifinado kicked her in the stomach and then kneed her in the jaw. All this with a nymph inside his stomach pouch, let's not forget. At top pixie speed, he zipped off down the corridor. There wasn't time to draw my wand, so I used my natural magic to disappear. A wingbeat later, I popped in front of him with an audible  _foop_  and puff of smoke, my arms raised to brace myself for the impending collision.

But it didn't come. Instead of bowling me over, Mr. Whimsifinado immediately scrabbled to a halt. Both hands flew to his cheeks. His eyes darted left, right, up, down, and finally latched onto mine. His chest heaved. For about five seconds, he stared at me with his pupils shrunken and his face twisted with absolute panic. He didn't seem to know what to do. Then he threw his hands into the air beside his head and  _shrieked_ meaninglessly in my face. My ears went back, but I stood my ground. When he went to grab his hair in both fists, I reached up and slipped my hands into his.

"Shh, shh…" Despite his beating wings and jerky shuffling movements, I clung on. I traced my thumbs over the wrinkles there, doing my best to keep my claws from pricking his skin, and just made quick circular movements against his palms, over and over. I floated higher, folding my legs behind me. "Hey, hey, shh…"

As his focus started to ease back in, Mr. Whimsifinado lowered his wings. His feet sank back to his heels. He blinked. His flared pupils dilated back to their regular size. I drew my hands away, in slow motion.

"Yes, that's it. Better now?"

"Um. Y-yeah. Thanks." He rubbed his knuckles as he turned around. Smoke, it had been so long since I'd actually heard him speak…

When I leaned around him, half a dozen cherubs were staring at me. Even Juandissimo had lifted his head. His eyes were violet. His quill plunged from his hand to the floor. I glanced from one end of the row to the other. "What?"

"How did you get him calmed down like that?" one cherub demanded, an arrow tipped with fast-acting paralysis magic drawn back to her cheek.

"Um." I drifted backwards as all their eyes zeroed in. "I've just been watching his reactions. In filling out the ethograms, I've learned a few of his behaviours. He became so stressed just now that he began regressing into his native state, and I thought this might could help."

"Into his what?"

"His native state. You know, like an Anti-Fairy who tries to fight the honey-lock after midnight. His insect instincts were taking over. That's why he was making the chirping sounds instead of using his words. I, uh… just focused his overwhelmed senses on something simple and repetitive in order to ground him in reality again. Um." I glanced away and rubbed behind my ear. Even Mr. Whimsifinado was watching me now, his teeth set uncertainly and his hands flat against his chest. "I- I've seen him do that same thing with the thumbs making circles on the palms to soothe the drones when they get anxious. I just got, you know" - I crossed my fingers -  _"lucky_  that it works on him too. I didn't know if it would. That was fortunate. I didn't really do anything. Maybe helping those who are stressed find their focus just comes naturally to me, Water year and all. You can thank Sunnie for it."

They continued to gaze after me as I made my way back up the stairs. No one in the observation room even glanced up when I came in, although when I sat down, Ella smiled in a blissfully unaware way. Of course. She could only see the enclosure in front of her. Not the corridor below.

"Did you get a good look at him up close? Fascinating creature."

I settled back into my chair beside her, picking at my claw. "I heard you're releasing them back into public society before the year is out."

"Some of them. We're going to place the pixie, anti-pixie, and refract pixie neotypes all together in this enclosure so they'll have their social needs met, and repurpose the old pixie refract one. We haven't officially decided yet, but we're tempted to keep it as a breeding room for pixies in the future. We've literally observed no  _in situ_ courtship behaviour even when we "accidentally" left the gyne with a fairy damsel in heat. While his season was coming on, too. He's so stubbornly shy when it comes to romantic pursuits, you know, but we'll find his type eventually. No one can resist forever. Interest in damsels would have been preferable for our case study, but bringing him together with a drake might have to do. Oscar says he has a thing for Dm. Venus, but I think he's into Unseelie Courters, if you know what I mean…"

A breeding room. My wings trembled. Trying to distract myself, I popped out my monocle and wiped it against the hem of my coat. It came away smudged.

 _Always knew the brat would turn out to be a cream puff,_ Ambrosine's damefriend had told my eight-year-old self. In my desperate need to paint Fergus Whimsifinado as my hero, I'd believed her. But Ambrosine had said,  _He just wasn't interested in people_  as though that were a real thing. Now, for the first time in my life, I believed him instead. Why? Because I selflessly wished to reach out a hand and help the old fellow to his feet, or because I selfishly needed a different kind of hero now? Someone who understood the terror that grips a reluctant soul…

I don't know.

I sat and listened to Ella's chatter for several minutes more, staring forward in silence and wondering where one draws the line between fae and animal. Too many cherubs drew it too far along one end of the spectrum, in my humble uneducated opinion.

My ears flattened. I clenched my hands in my lap, pinching the folds of my clothes. You know, I didn't care if it was an unpopular opinion among cherubs. Mr. Whimsifinado was more than an insect set out on display, just as I was more than a bat in a cage. Seelie. Unseelie. Fairy. Anti-Fairy. Refract. Pixie. It didn't matter. We were all people. That would  _always_  be the case, no matter how much animal blood rushed throughout our veins.

My hand moved to the familiar carpet bag I always kept at my side. Would Lohai understand all that someday, when I encouraged her to breed in order to preserve her species? Would she recognise that species preservation was different from forcing her to perform out of sheer curiosity for me?

Suddenly, I didn't care how much high education the cherubs had. All the certificates and research papers in the world mean nothing if you allow their supposed 'worth' to overtake your sense of compassion. Mercy  _always_  mattered more than being right. That's why I despised the plaques on display in the Anti-Fairy flyover tunnel, which presented my people as though we were wild animals. That's why I hated wearing pheromones, as though my behaviour could be altered with scented oils alone. That's why I'd always favoured Zodii beliefs over Daoist ones, because Zodii teachings revolved around balance, joy, and respect for others, rather than being cruel to those who aren't like you because of 'biology' and 'reflexes' and rubbish like that. I stared forward for a long time. Prattling Ella never noticed the acidic tears dribbling down my cheeks. Even with her Fairy senses.

My relief finally came in the form of Asher's hand clamping on my shoulder. I'd heard him and Juandissimo coming from afar, and couldn't get out of my seat quickly enough. "Drk. Ludell would like to speak with you in the alpha surgery room," he said, and I said, "Yes, he does. He does."

I left the observation deck behind, swearing that I'd never go back.

Asher guided me through multiple doors and corridors, pausing frequently to peer inside at the animals in their cages. I floated ahead of him, refusing to play his little game. Juandissimo kept at my heels, ringing in the energy field like cheery silver bells. Finally, we veered down a passage unfamiliar to me. The viewing windows on either side were replaced by pink wallpaper and pinker checked tiles. My ears twitched forward. If we hadn't yet left the public side of the Eros Nest behind, we were clearly about to.

We turned another corner. The lights shone much brighter here than anywhere else, and I broke into delighted laughter before I could help myself. Oh! I clasped my hands before my chest, kicking my legs up behind me. "Well, well! Now, if this old haunt isn't a sight for gorgeous eyes!"

Smoke, I hadn't come this way since before the war, but it never failed to impress. And I'm saying that as an Anti-Fairy with absolutely horrid eyesight. Asher and I had entered a wide corridor lined with over a dozen enormous portraits on either side. Floor-to-ceiling sort of enormous; I had to tilt my head back to see them very well at all.

We had a corridor just like this one back at the Blue Castle known as Anti-Holotype Hall. Thirty-four portraits lined our walls, one to represent each subspecies under the Anti-Fairy umbrella. All the paintings there depicted figures with sunken cheeks, shaded expressions, and hollow eyes. But in the Eros Nest, every face was lively. A few careful brush strokes left sunlight glimmering in hair. Smiles abounded all around, teeth showing without a hint of reservation. Hands clutched brilliant paper fans instead of half-empty wine glasses. Everyone here wore exquisite suits and dresses instead of cold black robes. I perused the hallway at my leisure, running my fingertips along the seashell bases of each portrait's frame in turn. Finella Sunbeam. Aphrodite Eros. Horace Sapphiro. Sienna Partridge. Faces I knew from history texts, but never so brilliantly as this.

Near the end of the row, when I'd begun to skim absentmindedly, I paused. There were thirty-five portraits hanging in this corridor. Not thirty-four. Even when I had passed through Anti-Holotype Hall with Emery on Patrons' Night all those years ago, there had only been thirty-four. Someone new had been added to the gallery. I looked up, blinking in half-bewilderment at the bespectacled pixie drake hanging above me. Oh. I shuffled another step back to take him in. My first thought when I saw him was,  _Is that **him?**_  But it couldn't be, surely? The drake in the portrait was much too young and handsome to be Fergus Whimsifinado, his half-lidded eyes more curious than scornful. And, let's be real here- the painted pixie came across as ridiculously fit, his large muscles toned and his stomach flat beneath his robes, and that is not what exhausted, frazzled, couldn't-lift-a-damsel-across-a-threshold Mr. Whimsifinado looked like  _at all._

But he  _did_  have that same spiral cowlick curling behind his ear…

No. If Mr. Whimsifinado was the pixie holotype, the Eros Triplets never would have allowed him to freely wander Planet Earth and Fairy World as long as they had. They'd be too busy breeding him dry. This must be his brother, Mister's father. He'd been painted sitting down, dressed in swirling navy blue and bronzed yellow against a dark brown background. Rather than a broken crown, this drake bore that same grey cap with a long star-tipped tail. A symbol of status worn by dominant pixie gynes? Perhaps. A child wearing similar colours sat in his lap, holding to his chest and staring silently, hauntingly down into my face. His crown had been concealed with a tiny grey hat, too. I squinted. He had two dark peaks curling from the front of his slick hair. Eh? Now I was further confused. Was that Mister himself, or was that his father as a nymph, sitting with his own sire? Accurate as my memory was, I couldn't tell for certain. All pixies looked alike to me.

"Dignified, isn't he?" Asher asked, floating up beside me with his hands linked behind his back (Juandissimo slipped behind him). "He looks so refined. You'd never know how bitterly stubborn he was when we had him drawn."

"Charming," I murmured, searching the portrait back and forth in search of some indication to prove I wasn't looking at Mr. Whimsifinado. Despite the familiar freckles and the cowlicks, it  _must_  have been Mister's father, although the resemblance to the drake I knew was stunning. "Exquisite, really. It's true what they say, I suppose, that pixies are all genetically identical."

And then my eyes wandered to the portrait of the damsel hanging on the left. The damsel with the smooth, thin face and extraordinarily pale skin, cheeks splattered with light freckles beneath her eyes. Her red-gold hair had been pulled back like a swishing fox's tail, and tied in place with an enormous white bow. She wore a yellow dress with a pink sash around the waist. Hips cocked to one side, hands poised. Her eyes gleamed electric and sparking blue. A golden crown with six shiny points floated incredibly high above her head. Unfurled behind her were a pair of unblemished orange and black wings, and that was all.

She was standing. She looked eerily happy in the painting, as though haunted by a memory. For all my centuries of research, I had never seen a full portrait of her in bold colour before. The very sight stole my thoughts away and left me audibly gasping. I dropped Lohai's carpet bag to the floor. Both hands flew to my mouth.

"I  _know_  her!"

Asher patted me between the wings. "Yep, that's her, all right. Ilisa Maddington herself. First of the will o' the wisps and widely considered the most beautiful fae to ever walk the cloudlands. She was even crowned Miss Universe once, you know. Everyone adored her. Shame about the Soil Temple collapse during the war. What a way to go, huh?"

 _Beautiful_  hadn't been the first word to pop into my head when I saw Ilisa. Nor  _stunning_  or  _gorgeous_  or  _fritzy_  or  _dazzled_  or anything like that. I'd thought  _Wrong_. My eyes drank up her portrait, my mouth groping and stuttering for words. Asher smothered his amusement in his hand, obviously mistaking my horror for infatuation. I inhaled through my mouth, struggling to balance my nerves.

"Wh-why did you paint her without her wheelchair?"

Juandissimo gasped, his wings jolting. He fumbled his clipboard. It crashed to the floor. Asher gave me a curious sideways glance. "How did you know about her chair? I didn't think that detail made it into either the history books or her biography."

I blinked, shocked by my own tears but unable to hold them back. I replaced the strap of Lohai's bag over my shoulder. "Sh-she only had the chair until her ninth child, Leander, was born. You took it from her when you locked her away here. You didn't need her to do anything but breed with drakes at your command. So you just… took it. Then she couldn't fly,  _poof,_  or walk. You told the media that she wasn't caged. But in a way, she was. She- she couldn't leave."

Asher glanced down at his sleeve and tugged it down over his wrist. "Don't blame me. I wasn't even alive back then. Euan Eros was the one in charge."

"I have to go now." Ducking my head, I barrelled past the confused cherub and fled down the corridor faster than I'd realised I could fly.

In the washroom, I plunged my hands into the rinsing bucket and brought them up full of water. Without hesitation, I splashed it all across my face and rubbed my icy cheeks up and down. Droplets splattered the collar of my coat and ran in rivets through my fur. Frost sparkled in the air. Huffing, heaving, I grasped the bucket in my dripping hands and stared at my reflection in the smudged mirror. I could tell the thing didn't have a silver back, although to my irritation, I realised it was a two-way one. I'm not quite sure how I knew that, however, so call it an Anti-Fairy instinct.

"What the bloody smoke was _that?"_  I muttered, leaning further forward. I didn't care that someone might be watching me from the mirror's other side. I hunched my shoulders, allowing my wings to sweep back and dangle. "All right. So, by the standards of Fairy society I suppose Ilisa is rather aesthetically appealing, and I'd be a liar if I insisted I hadn't noticed her lift, but what was  _that?_  Attraction? That didn't feel like attraction. How could I possibly be attracted to her anyway? I don't even know her. I didn't even know she used a wheelchair until approximately five seconds ago!"

Except I did know.

I don't… remember why… It's all so very…

My legs gave out beneath me as though they'd never had the strength to stand before. My claws scraped down the sides of the rinsing bucket, until I pushed too hard and tipped the whole thing over onto my head. Shaking, coughing at nothing, I crawled out from under it and curled up on the dirty washroom tiles. There I lay, holding my hands over my ears. The world was shaking. I hissed between my fangs. Oh, yes. The rocks and dirt fell harder and harder… Couldn't fly, couldn't fly after the loss of a wing that led to limping. Running was useless on noodle legs. Walls of soil closing in, trapping me and laughing long. Creamy hands with painted nails for claws, long russet hair to loose the fox inside. Crushing darkness. A cold whimper all alone.

It all went fuzzy after that.


	21. Bottled Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter parallels the "Origin of the Pixies" chapter, "Fruitful Fruition."

_In which Julius comes to terms with himself and the goings-on of the Eros Nest during the Year of the Golden Goslings_

* * *

I shot from the washroom so fast, I bowled Asher over. Juandissimo only barely ducked away in time. "Sorry," I shouted back, but only partly meant it. I winged my way back through the corridor, flinging pings of echolocation as I went. Lohai's carpet bag swung and slapped against me. My brow furrowed, but I hadn't forgotten the way. The path felt familiar. Left turn. Then swing right, and cut across the bridge that spanned the drop to Planet Earth below. Where was that door? That, I didn't know.

"Señor, please!"

There was my right turn. I pulled up before the employee access door, staring in frustration at the silver handle. Double locked today. I could pick the physical one without problem, but disabling the magical hex would take a moment longer. Perhaps it was best to take the long way around the Nest. At least then, I could keep moving. Besides that, what were the odds of me finding the door locked when it almost never was? How curious. Why, the spirits were practically waving red flags in my face to warn me away from this path! It was too much of a coincidence to be anything other than fate. So I veered away, speeding up my wingbeats.

 _Poof!_ Juandissimo materialised before me, holding his hands together in a plea. I yelped and _poof_ ed around him, but he reappeared in another cloud of dust. Oh, perfect. I ground my fangs together. "Excuse me."

"Señor, your presence has been requested in the surgery room. Please, will you join us?"

My fingers twitched towards my wand. "Out of my way, I must insist. This is far more important, I assure you."

Juandissimo took my forearms and pushed them into the air. His gaze locked with mine. "I am under orders to return you to Señor Pickfeather. I cannot disobey."

"Oh, give over!" I shoved his shoulder away with my hand. "That lout ought to thank me for his existence. I blitzed his granddaddy."

Juandissimo pulled back, his eyebrows raised. I  _poof_ ed off again, this time using my wand, and ended up much closer to my destination. The Fairy hall. The employee access side of the hall, specifically, since my wand had previously been chipped to allow me in. I shook my head and flew the rest of the way. Which one, which one…?

I found the rear door to Ilisa's cabin the moment Juandissimo found me. Screen door. Hexless, by the sound of it. Plain lock. Of course. Without magic and with employees stationed nearby, Ilisa wouldn't have been able to get out, so an unenchanted lock was all they'd ever needed. I shoved the star-capped end of my wand in the scanner and jimmied it around while Juandissimo hovered behind me, both his hands pressed over his mouth.

"Señor, please! We must go."

The lock clicked open. It moved with ease. My fury slowed. I stared at the door for several silent seconds, lowering myself to the ground. Oh. Oh. Swallowing, I sheathed my wand and pulled in my wings.

"Ah. Erm. Well now. You know, suddenly I'm not so sure I can do this."

Juandissimo glanced at me, rubbing one of his temples with two fingers. "What, really, are you trying to accomplish, señor?"

I stared at the mesh in the door's screen. "Oh my gods. I don't know." My fingers moved automatically to the left pocket of my coat. Tucked in there, deep down at the bottom, lay the shiny black button I'd stolen from the Water Temple. I pulled it out, looked at it, and clenched my hand into a fist.

I might not get another chance. "I'm sorry," I muttered to Juandissimo without turning around. The button went back in my pocket. I smoothed my shirt with my fingertips. "I have to do this."

"Señor," he protested, "Ilisa's wheelchair, it is not here."

"This isn't about the chair, you know." I pulled the door open, and glanced over my shoulder. Juandissimo stared at me, his wings fluttering a kilobeat a second. I tilted my head, gesturing inside the cabin with a wave of my hand. "Well? Are you coming?"

Juandissimo grasped his hair in both fists. "This- this is madness! We should not be here. We are not permitted. We must return to Señor Pickfeather. Those are the rules!"

"In a moment," I promised, making the sweeping gesture again. Eyeing me nervously, Juandissimo pulled in his wings and stepped through the doorway. I followed, allowing the door to swing shut behind me. He flinched when it did and hastily lit the end of his wand. I lit mine, although blue instead of yellow. In silence, we raised our arms and examined what little of our surroundings we could see.

Ilisa's cabin only had one level. Two rooms. One large sleeping pallet on full display, coated in soft animal skins, as was common for basic bedding a million years ago. Hmph. The bed's purpose was obvious, and clutched my chest in a squeeze. I dropped my gaze, lowering my glowing wand. Rough wooden floorboards. A dresser bearing a few dry flower stems. Not much else. Just the one breeding room, and one attached washroom for cleaning up in between. No kitchen area to speak of, or even a dining table. Of course. Why would Ilisa need a place to prepare her own meals when the Eros Triplets kept her on a strict diet and fed her breakfast in bed every day of her service?

"I," Juandissimo said softly, his voice halting on the word. I glanced at him, and he licked his lips. His wand sparked. "I… have never been here before. It looks brighter in the paintings."

"That doorway is terribly narrow," I noticed dryly. "Too thin for either a wheelchair or adult wings. One must land to step through, mustn't one? Cruel trick, that. Ilisa couldn't walk."

"Why are we here, señor?" he asked. His wand sparked again, and I shot him a wary glance. He was a  _luz mala_ , brought into existence through magical means. That meant his magic was inherently unstable. Fairies were naturally creatures of empathy, and if his feelings began to overwhelm him, I didn't want to be around.

"I'm looking for something," I said, holding out my wand. I stepped forward, keeping my eyes on the floor. "I don't know what it is, exactly, but I'll know it when I find it. Something good, and innocent, and right. Something…"

There. On the ground, tucked halfway under the raised sleeping pallet.

My wand slipped from my hand, its light puttering out. My legs wobbled beneath me. Suddenly, Lohai's bag felt more like an anchor dragging me into a deep, dark pit. As my eyes welled up with tears, I pressed my hand over my mouth and sniffled. Oh. I fell to my knees, and then reached my hand forward. A scrappy plush animal made of red cloth lay on the floor, gathering dust. I lit my wand again and sat there, holding both. When I turned the little bear's face towards mine, I drank in the white skull-like markings with the three jagged teeth to form the mouth. One of her deep black button eyes was missing, just as I remembered it would be. Whimpering, I hugged her to my chest and ducked my head.

"Nothing's changed." The words hitched as they left my tongue. "Even after all these years. Thank gods. Thank gods. They didn't sentence anyone else to this place."

Juandissimo knelt beside me, holding his wand with both hands in his lap. "Oh," he said, very softly. "Are you Zodii, señor?"

I nodded without opening my eyes.

"This would mean you believe in reincarnation,  _sí?"_

I nodded again, tightening my grip on the old bear. The limp in my wing ached all the way to my spine.

"I see," Juandissimo murmured. He turned his wand over between his fingers, allowing silence to sit between us.

"You believe me," I said, opening my eyes with caution. He looked at me, with a neutral expression. His eyes glowed in the dark, and even when he dropped them to his hands, I could still make out their violet colour.

"I… hesitate to make a judgement call, señor. This is not my place. I shall not overstep. But please, señor, we must return to Señor Pickfeather soon. The gyne is to come out of surgery soon, and they will wonder where you are."

"His name is Mr. Whimsifinado," I muttered. Juandissimo did not reply. I shut my eyes again and leaned back against the old skins and furs on the sleeping pallet, cradling the bear to my shoulder like a sleepy pup. "He has a name."

A few seconds passed in silence. Then, slowly, Juandissimo raised his head. He brought his hands near his chest, linking his fingers together. "Señor, I… I have something I wish to confess. May I speak openly in your presence,  _por favor?"_

"Please, darling."

His thumbs tapped together. "I saw… You stood for the gyne when he was so scared. For Señor Whimsifinado." The name conflicted with his accent just enough to make one end of my mouth quirk up in a smile. Juandissimo didn't notice, his hands shaking, brows crunched together. Again, he pressed against his chest. "You have always spoken to me as though I deserve to call myself a fairy. Why do you do this?"

I brought my knees up, frowning. "Whyever not? You're a person, aren't you?"

Juandissimo's eyes swelled with pained hesitation. "But you are an Anti-Fairy. Your people, they are evil. You taunt us with your bad luck, and hurt our homes and families. How can you do this, and then try to be our friend?"

I thought about that for a moment. It would have been easy, so easy, to deflect the blame of bad luck upon the umbrae my people fought an endless war with. But Juandissimo's tone was sincere and frightened, and I could not do that to him. So I said, "We balance the universe, as The Great Universe Queen Whose Name Anti-Fairy Tongues Do Not Speak desires us to. Eons ago, Tarrow blessed our smoke with sentience so we might fulfil a destiny. A world that veers from the point of homeostasis cannot maintain its valued ecosystems. Balance is everything."

"Balance?"

"Well, some people believe 'good' and 'evil' to be opposites."

He paused. "Good needs no evil, señor. Happy does not need heartbreak."

I sighed and hugged the bear. "Balance is everything," I said again, more firmly this time. "This is why every species of creature, from us to angels to wild animals, has variation in personality. Aggressive members of a species defend territory at the risk of losing offspring, while passive members of a species see more of their children reared to adulthood at the risk of losing territory. A species as a whole cannot last long without balance in all things. Variation is survival. That's why I support my fellows who spread bad luck in the field. Fairies ensure the survival of our children by protecting their own, just as their Domestic Fae ancestors did long ago. Anti-Fairies secure territory. My people protect your farms from pests, and your flocks from hungry demons, and your homes from thieves, just as we did when we were Solitary Fae. Our twin races flourish  _because_   _of_ , not in spite of, one another. Neither of us could live without our opposite, for more reasons than the most obvious one which comes to mind. Do you see?"

Juandissimo was not convinced. Shifting the way he sat on his feet, he said, "You hurt my people every day."

"… Yes. Some of us. Not all of us. It would seem that some of my people have forgotten we were once your guardians. And some of yours have forgotten we were once your equals. Some of you. Not all of you."

"Ah, _sí."_

He finally sounded satisfied. I rather suspected he was Daoist, but if he saw no reason to contend with me, I saw no reason to contend with him. I leaned back my head once more, stroking the soft ears of the little skull-faced bear.

"It was here in this room, you know. In my past life as Ilisa Maddington. I was the only one of my kind, except for my children, and Drk. Euan ensured I bred plentifully so my offspring would never go extinct. I was s-so beautiful in their minds with my fascinating wings, and so the Triplets paired me up with nearly every drake they could find. It was in this room. All of them, on this very pallet. I wasn't allowed to leave. I  _couldn't_  leave." I pressed my clenched fist against my forehead. "I remember. Not in full… It's partly blocked from me even now, but I was addicted to their praise. Their compliments. Their bodies. So many delightful, slippery bodies. Oh my gods- Ambrosine, skittish and awkward. Yes, I was his first kiss. I remember! And there were others."

Juandissimo waited for me to finish, his hands resting on his knees. When I briefly paused to wipe a tear away with my thumb, he said, "I am so sorry, señor. Ilisa… She was not treated with the kindness that she should have been shown. The Eroses, they wished to preserve her species… but they did not ask Ilisa if this was okay with her. With… you."

"Yes, I know. I know. It's just… Smoke. I took my place before the Fairy Council as the will o' the wisp ambassador, once. I could fly. I didn't need the chair so long as I had room to stretch my wings, so no one knew. My mother was a coward who feared the world wouldn't find me beautiful anymore if they knew, and she always begged me not to tell. My staff - the one I carried to the council meetings and the battlefield - once belonged to Fergusius the Great. All my fellow ambassadors hated me for not engaging in lifetime monogamy with a single partner. As if I had a bloody choice.

"And then the war- don't start me on the war! I didn't get to see it end. I- I died in the Soil Temple, buried alive and beautiful no longer. My wings… Those horrid falling rocks tore off my wing, and that was when I knew I only had minutes left." I clasped my hands against my eyes, suddenly thick in the throat. The cloth bear fell to my lap. My wings swept forward, wrapping over my shoulders. "I-it's so very difficult, you know what I mean? I faded away wishing I could fly just one last time. The Triplets never let me fly while I was in the Nest. Oh, I would do anything to fly again. To live a life  _I_  wanted to. Free. Unrestrained…"

"I'm sorry, señor. I am no Eros Triplet, or even a cherub." Juandissimo moved one hand to my leg, and lifted my chin with the tip of his wand. I blinked unhappily at his eyes, and realised he was weeping too. His fingers squeezed. "This is not a real apology, coming from a simple fairy like me, but I am so sorry to hear these things. What you describe would be very hard to live."

I flattened my wrist over my mouth until my teeth bit bone. "Oh! I saved the Mulberry Division from the Temple's collapse when I died. Ambrosine was there… He and his sister were the last ones to ever see me alive. I'm the reason their forces went on to destroy the Shadow Bridge. Luna's Landing lost its Bridge to Earth because of me. It's my fault the war ended in the Fairies' favour. And- and…" I closed my eyes. "Gods, it's fuzzy now. Oh- Juandissimo, old sport, don't wipe my tears with your sleeve like that. The acid will burn right through the fabric."

"That's but a small matter, señor."

And then I realised something else, and I sobbed even harder. "Her name was never Clarice! She tried to tell us who she was every time a mind-melder asked, and we all misheard. I'm a Fairy! A Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body!"

"I know, señor," Juandissimo murmured, holding me close. I buried my face in his chest and wept until my wings collapsed against my back. He pressed his cheek against the top of my head, staring at the wall in the dark while our wands burned on the floor beside us. Gold and blue. That Daoist fairy held a Zodii anti-one like we were brothers, and instead of mocking my beliefs in favour of his, he wiped my boiling tears against his own shirt and whispered gently in my ear, "I know."

Because Juandissimo had been so patient with me for the several minutes that I cried with him, I did not argue when he finally urged me (gently) to join Asher and my fellow researchers in the alpha surgery room where they were, ah, working with Mr. Whimsifinado. We were too late to join them, as they'd put him under a sleeping spell and begun prodding around his insides by the time we reached the corridor. Drk. Ludell, Triplet of the Evening, happened to be outside the surgery room door with his quiver slung over one shoulder. He was pulling on his gloves, a winged mug floating in the air beside him. A hexagonal pixie nymph balanced in his arm, whining softly. Good man, really, but every time I looked at his sharp face and cropped pink hair, my skin crawled with memories of Anti-Ludell imprisoning my soul in a jar when I was but lifesmoke long ago.

With him (to my surprise) was young Drk. Cupid: Dm. Venus' eldest son and therefore the next Triplet of the Morning in line. He had a quiver of his own positioned between his feathered wings, the arrows tipped with razor points despite his inexperience in the field. As was tradition in the Eros family, he wore little but a pink coat and cloth garment around his waist, much like the depictions of Aengus, the ancient god of love among the Tuatha Dé Danann. Technically he outranked his uncle, even though he was hardly more than a nymph. The buttons on his jacket had been slipped through the wrong holes.

At our approach, Drk. Ludell nudged his nephew forward with his foot. I hovered in the background. Juandissimo apologised profusely on my behalf, wings spread low and wide. He took the blame for our sudden disappearance… blame he probably shouldn't have taken, but I was very grateful. I couldn't have handled a scolding in the shaken mindset I was in. Drk. Cupid clasped his hands at his waist, obviously flustered at the sight of an older, taller fairy drake treating him as a superior. His crossed eyes couldn't seem to decide where he ought to look.

Right about then, I heard movement behind the two cherubs. When I leaned to the side, I realised that the clear chambers at the end of the corridor - we called them 'on deck,' officially - were all occupied by will o' the wisp counterparts in pink surgery gowns. We used those triangular chambers for holding fae before surgery or between running tests on them, and all  _three_  counterparts were present. My eyes widened. The anti-wisp I recognised instantly, smiling her dumb smile and braiding her unbrushed black hair. The refract slouched where he stood. He toyed with ten sock puppets, and didn't glance up even when I strayed over to get a closer look.

The primary counterpart faced me, one hand braced against her hip and the other palm flat against the glass wall beside her cheek. Her hair caught my attention first, as it began with blue on her scalp before fading into yellow, orange, and red at its lower tips. Then her wings: black, speckled around the edges with spots of blue, orange, and white. Interesting- wisps always took their wing colour from their father's eyes, you know. She showed the swallowtail gene too, at the bases: Two little tags swirling below her wings like a family cowlick. Although I'd never met her, I certainly remembered her counterpart from that time I'd visited Anti-Fergus. Kalysta Ivorie.

My eyes began at her navel, then slowly rose to her face. I had to tilt back my head. She was  _tall._  Taller than Mr. Whimsifinado, and he'd been tall. Good smoke, she was really quite tall. She gazed down at me, just as I gazed up at her. I'm not sure there's ever been such a tall wisp, as a matter of fact. I'd been tall as Ilisa, but she would have dwarfed me even then. Funny. We were related, but we looked so different after a few generations between us. Her ears were still pointed, her face narrow rather than round, but her skin had darkened by a few shades compared to mine.

"I've read your novels," I said, for lack of anything else to say. Clasping my hands at my waist, I shrugged. "Well. Bits and pieces of most of them. Mostly over my roommate's shoulder, actually."

Kalysta leaned back her head, leaving her hand on the wall where it was. "Aren't you a bit underage for erotic literature?"

"Well, I've always had a soft spot for will o' the wisp authors, and you're the most famous one there's ever been. Although…" Here, I narrowed my eyes, and pressed one finger to my lips. "I do have  _one_  critique I wish to offer."

"Oh?" She tugged at the slight sleeve of her surgery gown. "I'm listening."

"Good. Now, look here. While your writing is superb in many fine ways, I do ever so despise the exaggerated way you write Anti-Fairy accents."

Kalysta blinked, like she  _hadn't even expected this to be an issue._  I stared up at her in disbelief, now crossing my arms. Her response? "I just write them the way they sound."

"Yes, well, take it from an actual anti-fairy, darling: Your overzealous use of apostrophes and misspellings to point out 'deviations' in our speech from your precious 'Fairy norm' is  _incredibly_  offensive, and I speak for many of my people when I say I wish you'd stop." It occurred to me then that if I were "out" to her regarding my past life as Ilisa, I could have played the  _Do it because I'm your several-times great-grandmother_  card.

"I didn't mean to offend anyone-"

"Which is why I point it out, so you can write more respectfully in the future. Oh- I'm terribly sorry, luv. I didn't mean to cut you off there. Yes, go on."

Kalysta reached behind her to grab a water flask hanging from the wall by its strap. She was scowling now. "No… Unfortunately, the accents are part of my established canon, and I can't just change them in future projects. My publisher expects a certain tone from me, and I try to make my stories real. It's just my writing style, y'all understand. No offense intended."

I stared at her some more, the fond respect I'd once held for her going up in smoke. What? I say, would  _she_  very much like it if I began spelling Fairy accents (and only Fairy accents) out in my head in such a ridiculous way? I mean, she was a will o' the wisp, and most of the Earthside wisps spoke with the same drawl that Mickey did. Exaggerating hers for once would be simple.

Bloody smoke, I don't know. Why does it seem as though Fairies insist on being… like _that?_ Is respect for an entire population really that difficult of a thing to offer up? Come now, I don't claim to be the best at it, but surely I'm better than they? Am I exaggerating my intelligence out of proportion? Hmph.

Kalysta glanced up from her water flask. There wasn't anything else in the chamber to hold, apart from a blanket, and maybe she simply wished for a bit of tactile stimulation. "What's your story?" she asked. "You're an anti-fairy, but apparently you're working on a top secret project here in the Eros Nest with the finest cherubs in the universe."

I checked over my shoulder, but Drk. Ludell, Juandissimo, and Drk. Cupid were holding conversation now, by which I mean the cherubs were conversing while Juandissimo scribbled notes on a clipboard, and none of them seemed bothered that I had moved further down the corridor. "Yes, ah, I'm here as an intern, as I have an interest in preserving the genie race, as a matter of fact. That, and I've spent my whole life until now studying the nature of the honey-lock in search of any possible loopholes to end its control over my people once and for all."

"Really…" Kalysta gazed at me again, appearing genuinely interested in what I had said. She traced her thumb along the strap of the flask. Her eyelids flickered shut. "That sounds like a worthwhile adventure. If I were a hundred thousand years younger, maybe we could work alongside one another. I fell into writing because job opportunities are scarce for will o' the wisps otherwise, but I always did want to attend school in the cloudlands. I write romance. I think it would be interesting to observe reproduction the way you and the cherubs do, and draw the feelings and the stories out of it."

I raised my eyebrow, not entirely comfortable being lumped in with the cherubs, but I let it slide. "Perhaps. Who knows? I might write a book of my own someday."

… Oh. Ilisa Maddington's biography. The one I'd written in collaboration with the researcher Henry Bates.  _I_ wrote that. I blinked a few times. Oh. No wonder I'd considered it my comfort story, even as a child.

She nodded thoughtfully. "You're a curious drake, Julius. I feel as though we could have many inspiring conversations together. The honey-lock is certainly an interesting concept to play with. I don't normally write Anti-Fairy romance, but you give me an idea for a story…" She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Would you be offended if I wrote about an anti-fairy whose field of research was Fairy reproduction, and he maintained a professional distance from the Fairies he studied for millennia on end before deciding he needed to know for himself what their love felt like?"

I looked at her. "Quite a bit, actually. Not only on my behalf, but also on behalf of the poor soul you believe would willingly throw herself at his or her captor's feet and call it love. Use me for inspiration if you care to, but at least strive to be accurate to both the biology and culture of my people. If you're writing Anti-Fairies, I advise you to do your research carefully. Consider the current zodiac year as well as the years of the lovers in question. Consider cultural expectations - on both sides - along with the physical improbability of such a couple coming away satisfied from that encounter when chances are that one or both of them wouldn't be fully pleasured. Believe me, I'm all for cross-Court love stories. My grandmother Anti-Miranda had a civil Fairy partner, you know. It's the lack of research and accurate portrayals that bother me, and frankly, my dear, given what I've seen of your works so far, I have my doubts that you're the damsel who can pull it off."

Kalysta wrinkled her nose in disappointment, but didn't protest. I paused, fingering the strap of Lohai's bag. Had I been too harsh? It's what I believed. I  _hate_  reading stories that write Anti-Fairies as creatures capable of mating face to face. I  _hate_  reading stories written by Fairies who act as though their system is infinitely more intimate, and that we Anti-Fairies are detached and undesirable for all the kisses we can't exchange at the same time. Is it too much to ask that my ability to love be presented factually and with respect? Presented as something normal, something that still carries with it that same intimacy and desire the Fairies credit themselves with? Believe me, our nights are no less passionate. A moment's research never killed anyone. There aren't many published Anti-Fairy authors out there (writers of erotic literature even less so), but reading how we portray ourselves would be a good start, I think.

Drk. Ludell called my name just then, so I bid Kalysta farewell and hurried to his side. He gestured to young Drk. Cupid. Fumbling, struggling with eye contact, Drk. Cupid took the clipboard from Juandissimo and flipped it to its second page.

"Okay, um. This is about the pixie gyne. While he's uncon- uncon-"

"Unconscious," Drk. Ludell supplied.

"-that, in the surgery room, we, um, we're going to prick him with the strongest oxytocin arrow we've got."

My brows shot up. "The blackout arrow, sir?"

"Yeah, that one." Drk. Cupid sighed in frustration, rustling through the papers. "Ooh, this would be sooo much easier if we actually had arrows with the power to make him really fall in love the way the media thinks we do, but we'll just have to do the best we can, okay? We want to study  _in situ_  sexual behaviour, and since you've done excellent with the ethograms even when the pixies move fast, we want you to, uh, take the notes for us on this too, if you're willing to work for a little while longer today. You have a perfect memory, after all."

Today? My jaw dropped open. "Excuse me? You're doing this immediately after pulling him from surgery?"

Drk. Cupid looked up, puzzled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Flinging my arm sideways, I cried, "He isn't in a romantic mood! We'll be here all week!"

"Julius," Drk. Ludell scolded, and I ducked my head. "Forgive me, Eros Morning," I mumbled to Drk. Cupid. It was an effort to prevent my hands from turning into fists.

"But…" Drk. Cupid checked Juandissimo's clipboard again. "This says he's in heat."

I slapped my palm against my forehead and drew it down my nose. It jarred my monocle slightly out of place, so I corrected it while clearing my throat. "Drk. Ludell, if I may express my honest reply?"

Drk. Ludell raised a brow, and looked at Drk. Cupid. When Drk. Cupid didn't react, he nudged the child with his foot again. "Oh," Drk. Cupid stammered. He clutched the clipboard to his chest, backing a step away. His wings bumped against Juandissimo. "Um, yeah. Okay. Yeah. You can say something."

"I mean no offense, sir, but let me put it this way. Would  _you_ ever be in the mood to mate with someone in a sterile, scientific environment knowing full well your most private intimate behaviour is being monitored in every way?"

Drk. Cupid blinked. "Yeah, of course."

"Oh, right. Triplet of the Morning. You won't have a choice but to mate until you produce triplets of your own someday. Bad example. Hmm…" I tapped my claws, then tried a different approach. Bringing my hands together before my chest, I said, "Over my 400 years of studying this drake, I have concluded that pixies are a lekking species. They display for mates in groups. Mr.… Er, the pixie gyne isn't likely to be compliant if you don't give him anyone to compete against."

"Very good, Julius," Drk. Ludell praised, only sounding half sincere. "We've taken that into account, but it doesn't particularly matter. He's in season, after all, and we've kept him dry this long. He won't reject a damsel who comes onto him."

"… He isn't interested in people. He doesn't enjoy it."

"He had a wife once. She might disagree with you." Drawing his cocoa mug from the air, Drk. Ludell brought it to his lips. "Everyone's interested in someone."

I lifted two fingers. "Sir, may I express my honest reply?"

"You may."

"I am an Anti-Fairy." I touched my hand to my chest. "I believe in the idea of soulmates- that it's our fate to bond with the best possible match for our personalities in this lifetime, and Tarrow can nudge us in the right direction. However, not all bonds are romantic ones, and I believe that's important, too. Some Anti-Fairies choose to go their whole lives without mating with the partner they matched rings with at their betrothal ceremony, or with anyone else either apart from the command of the honey-lock, and, well… I can't pretend I would want that lifestyle for myself, but they seem to be happy, and I think that's important. Their bond still holds intimate value to them, even if they describe their love as non-sexual. These affectionate, non-sexual partners call themselves 'courgettes.' That life works for some people. Other Anti-Fairies, happiest on their own, reject betrothals and partnerships altogether. I've spoken to the pixie gyne's father personally. He told me himself, his son isn't interested in, ah, mating and things of that nature. Unusual for a Fairy, I know, but I just… thought I should mention that, sir. You can coax him all you want, but I don't think he'll express a romantic side of himself willingly, even if a damsel approaches him first, sir."

Drk. Ludell considered my comment, while Drk. Cupid stared up at him and Juandissimo floated quietly with his head bowed. "All right," he conceded at last. He combed his fingers through the short tufts in his hair. "We'll move on to Plan Beta, then. Cupid, find your brothers and then check in on that damsel you three are always losing track of. Julius, Juandissimo, follow me."

Drk. Cupid handed Juandissimo back his clipboard and sped off in a flurry of feathers. I fell in beside the fairy, eyeing Drk. Ludell cautiously. Drk. Ludell entered the surgery preparation room and began readying himself to scrub in. Splashing his hands in a basin of fresh water, he said, "Have you ever used a courtship ethogram sheet before, Julius?"

"No, sir, but I'm willing to learn."

"No; we're behind schedule already, and I don't have time to teach you now. I'll do it myself. Juandissimo, fetch the plume. We'll use her instead. Julius, pull the sperm they'll be using today from the cryo room. It's under 'Ivorie, Kalysta.' Right side, near the door. Bring it here so I can give it one last check before we inseminate the gyne, then report to the beta examination room- Dm. Venus can use your assistance there instead."

"Erm…" I lifted my two fingers again. "Dm. Venus as in… your sister, Eros Morning? That Dm. Venus?"

Drk. Ludell stared at me hard enough to melt my socks into string. "Yes, that Dm. Venus," he said. "Don't keep her waiting."

Oh my smoke.  _Dm. Venus Eros._  My knees knocked together. Swallowing, I nodded, then flew back into the corridor. The cryo room was two doors down, behind the three triangle chambers that held Wisp-Kalysta and her counterparts. They watched me in silence, barely moving apart from Anti-Kalysta's fingers braiding her dirty hair. I shivered.

I'd visited the cryo room twice before, both times with Juandissimo when we were artificially inseminating dwarves. I twisted the star on my wand in the door's lock and opened it. Icy air blasted my face. My fur fluffed out. With a shiver, I wrapped my wings around myself and waddled in. As Ludell had promised, I was able to locate the Ivorie rack quickly, the half-dozen vials sparkling with frost. I had to stretch up on my toes, but I managed to grasp one marked with the abbreviation for yesterday's date,  _LA/88/YoGG6._

As I dropped back to my heels, I thought,  _Hmm. I wonder…_

Slowly, I turned around to face the display case behind me- the one the Triplets kept near the front of the cryo room because they enjoyed showing it off on tours to fancy ambassadors from alien races. I knew its label by memory:  _WARNING. For universal distribution purposes and emergency species revival only. NOT FOR CASUAL USE._

I drew my lockpicks from my coat and pocketed the Ivorie vial in their place. The lock on the case wasn't particularly strong, as we were in the employee access hall behind a locked door to begin with, so I made quick work of it. The panel clicked open. Faint threads of cold leaked around the edges, twirling into spirals around my neck. I scanned the racks inside the display case, which was deeper than it was wider or tall, and it was fairly wide and tall. Sperm canisters were arranged on the left, eggs on the right. My nerves splintered at their ends. What if someone walked in on me like this? What if Anti-Kalysta heard me fumbling around and ratted me out? What if the Eros Triplets banned me from the Nest for life? What _if?_

There. Bottom two racks.  _Maddington, Ilisa - MS/72/YoFC13._

I stared at the row of perfect vials, my hand on the door of the case, my wings trembling. I gripped my bangs in my fist.

_Maddington, Ilisa - MS/72/YoFC13._

"That's mine," I muttered, staring and staring. "That's my own sperm from another lifetime, half a million years ago. That, right there… you could create a child with something that fertile. A real, living, legitimate child technically borne of my own loins. I'm looking at halves of my future offspring right now. Eat your core out, fairy baby mandate."

_Maddington, Ilisa - MS/72/YoFC13._

_She's dead. She's dead, she's dead, she's dead. They don't have her counterparts' eggs or sperm on hand. If they used this, the honey-lock would sync to Ilisa's closest viable genetic match, the same way it does if an Anti-Fairy parent dies within three months of their hosting counterparts pairing up._

_Maddington, Ilisa - MS/72/YoFC13._

I covered my mouth with one hand. Yes. Yes. I could complete the fertilisation process in the Blue Castle and raise the child as my own- I knew the basics.

No one was watching me. So I whisked one of Ilisa's sperm vials from the rack and slipped it into the opposite pocket from Kalysta's. My throat squeezed.  _Don't mix them up. Don't mix them up._

All I needed now were some fertile eggs, and I'd be a father as early as I wanted to be. I wasn't really sure when; perhaps I'd wait a mite longer. My eyes skimmed across the options in the case, all of them drawn from fae holotypes long ago. Lorian Weidenburker? Too old. Mallardi Fern? Even older. Well, I suppose they were probably young when their eggs were drawn, but you know what I mean. Ky Braddocki? Ilisa was his great-granddaughter, so that option was out. In fact, she was probably related to most of these people.

The last canister on the rack read,  _Haploid pixie eggs - LA/76/YoGG6._

I looked at the eggs for a long time, the cold vial of Ilisa's sperm chilling my hip through my coat. Briefly, I entertained the possibility of a half-wisp, half-pixie nymph sucking sleepily on their thumb in my arms. But of all Fairykind, pixies were probably my worst option of all. Their genetic code was unstable and unhealthy, and I couldn't afford to risk Ilisa's precious sperm on dead ends. My sperm. My children.

Fine. No pixie eggs, then. Tapping my fangs with one claw, easing the door mostly shut to keep the cold in, I scanned my options. As near as I could figure, the case only contained genetic samples of the most famous Fairykind in the known universe. Every holotype seemed to be accounted for. Dm. Venus had frozen plenty of her own sperm, too. I supposed she had a right to. The power to influence love as totally as the Eros Triplets did was passed through their bloodline, and maintained by purity. Should one of her children taint themselves with some unpardonable Fairy sin, she was honour-bound to kill them and sire new Triplets in their stead. Such was their fate, whether they were juveniles or long-grown adults.

If all the eggs kept under lock and key here in the display case did indeed belong to holotypes and famous figureheads, then most of them were my own ancestors. Ancestors on my Ilisa side, anyway; biologically she was considered a common fairy mutation, but one born of considerably crossbred blood. Hmm. All right, then. I wouldn't make use of holotype eggs. If I intended to make use of my precious frozen sperm, I'd have to find another donor.

I shut the door and glanced further into the cryo room, which stretched long and far. Other sperm vials lined the shelves. After a moment's hesitation, I crept along one of the rows. Ice bit my feet with every step, but I forced myself on. Shelves were labelled according to different races in the universe, and no drake eggs were present in the Fairykind section.

I set one hand to my hip and pushed the other through my hair. "Well,  _this_  is certainly a fruitless effort, isn't it, Lohai dear? Of course the Eroses wouldn't care for eggs drawn from regular, average drakes when they'll always be able to step outside and pluck one off the streets. They only store what comes from the most important, most unique Fairies in the universe. Chances are, they've paired everyone they can with bloody Ilisa, so there's no telling how many of Ilisa's descendants are running rampant through Fairy World now, dotties and non-dotties alike. Hmph." My fingers pinched and tugged a snag of my bangs. "I say, where precisely in here am I supposed to find a male Fairy notable enough to have his eggs preserved and yet guaranteed not to be descended from-  _oh my gods!"_

Whipping around, I flew back to the display case and wrenched open the door. I tore through the first several rows of vials without hesitation, sweeping my eyes back and forth. When they locked onto a canister of eggs on the sixth shelf, they went wide.

Oh my gods. Yes. Yes, yes, yes!

_Magnifico, Juandissimo - ES/13/YoCW4._

My lips parted. Of course. A fairy brought into existence with genie magic. That implied his father was sterile, but desperate enough for children to strike a deal with a devilish djinn anyway. A sterile drake wouldn't have been permitted to breed with Ilisa. I was almost positive there wasn't any wisp in his lineage- Juandissimo showed standard fairy wings, after all, without the elaborate spirals or rounded shape that typically went along with will o' the wisp ancestry.

He was perfect. So perfect. My fingers hovered over the egg canister, weighing pros and cons. I was sure Juandissimo wouldn't mind if I borrowed just a few. He had so many, after all…

No, I couldn't sneak away with the eggs now. Not if Dm. Venus was expecting me in the other room. They wouldn't stay frozen until I reached Anti-Fairy World again. I'd have to come back for them tomorrow. So I left the eggs in the case, and took only the two vials of sperm. The first went to Drk. Ludell. The second, I kept hidden on my person. He didn't seem to notice, nor did anyone else. Good.

I opened the door to the beta examination room and shut it softly behind me. The energy field spiked with the sound of sharp cart wheels speeding down a road. Three pixie counterparts sat on the metal table. The anti-pixie was in tears, covering his face. The primary sat stoically, arms crossed. The refract bounced her legs, fists clenched in her lap. To my left stood a corkboard, its surface tilted at an angle like a drawing table. A cherub with braided hair worked behind it. She sat in a fluffy chair much too pompous for an examination room, in my private opinion. Her fingers flew across a large keypad in her hand, which was connected to a bulky screen clamped to the corkboard's top. She continued working for a moment more while I fidgeted in the doorway. Then she raised her head.

"I assume Ludell sent you?"

"Yes, dame. I was asked if I could stay longer and assist you today."

"You're late."

"I'm… I'm sorry, dame."

Dm. Venus studied me, blue eyes prickling against my skin. I could only maintain eye contact for a few seconds before I ducked my head, tugging at a fold in my coat. I felt underdressed. The anti-pixie continued whimpering into his hands.

"Come around to this side of my desk."

When I did, I could see from her drawings that she wasn't much of an artist, but she was a pious note-taker. Circles, arrows, thumbtacks, bits of string, and criss-cross marks in multiple colours organized her work in the most chaotic manner I'd ever seen. The sight threatened to make me nauseous, but I held my stomach and my grown.

Dm. Venus turned to me, her face expressionless. She settled her elbows on the arms of her chair, and folded one leg over the other. "You're an anti-fairy. Your memory is perfect, and I've already done the hard work for you. Look at the DNA analyses for these three pixies and tell me what's wrong with this picture."

My core fizzed like a dying spark in my head. I shifted my attention to the assortment of parchments pinned to her corkboard, and bit my lip. "Um…"

The colours. There were so many noisy colours. The crying. The rustle of cloth. The energy field ringing around my head. The click of Venus' fingernails. I gripped my elbow, darting my eyes left and right across the corkboard. My ears went back. Circles? Circles probably indicated important notes… but what about that star? And was a green star more important than a blue one? What did those arrows mean? Everything had arrows, with unnecessary feathers drawn onto the rears of their shafts. Numbers crawled in every direction. Words stared back at me in a language I did not understand. I'm not even sure it was Snobbish, but my nerves were too taut to tell.

"I… I don't know, dame."

"Hmm," Dm. Venus said. Reaching past me, she lay her finger on a small block of information boxed in red. "Explain what all this means, in your own words."

I stared at the block, feeling the fur rise on the back of my neck. Warm shivers poured like a river down my spine. The words with the largest print read  _Damselization phenotype_ , with the words  _Drakulization?_ and  _Gynecomastia?_  and  _Androgenic?_  written above it. My saliva dried into frost.

"Erm. Well. Ah… I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you, Vinnie. My strength is in studying behaviour, not biology."

Her head jerked to the left. "What did you just call me?"

"What?"

Dm. Venus stared at me, horror thundering across her face. Her hands clenched around the ends of her puffy chair's arms. "You called me  _Vinnie._  Who told you to say that? Only my grandfather has ever called me Vinnie."

"Oh," I said, covering my mouth with the web of skin between my forefinger and thumb. "So sorry, dame. Slip of the tongue. It- it won't happen again, I assure you. My sincere apologies."

With a huff, she gestured to the corkboard and all its messy notes. "Thus far, all the pixies we've studied have been genetically identical. However, while we were examining this  _particular_  refract, we realised the three Wilcoxes are not."

"Oh," I said. Dm. Venus nodded and waved her hand again.

"I sent for the counterparts immediately to confirm it. Across the board, their sex chromosomes are backwards. The primary and anti-pixie are biologically female. The refract is male."

I looked again at the three pixies on the examination table. Wilcox Prime had tilted back his (her?) head, gnashing her(?) teeth at the ceiling. Anti-Wilcox continued weeping, and Dame… Drake… the refract continued to fidget with… their robes. "Oh. Well. That's certainly… different."

"Pixies are  _identical."_  Dm. Venus slammed her hands against her thighs, then pressed her fingers to her temples. "This is the part that doesn't make sense. Their reproductive systems are correct. Wilcox and Anti-Wilcox have the drakian reproductive system, but damseline sex chromosomes. The refract mirrors them. Absolutely nothing else changed in their bodies. They're biologically female, which explains their longer hair, but they became functional males during their early development. No documented alteration magic. It just happened naturally. There must be will o' the wisp in their genepool."

"Ah," I said, wrinkling my brow. If they  _were_  descended from Ilisa, I suppose it was for the best I hadn't pinched the pixie eggs from the cryo room.

Dm. Venus stared at the three pixies on the table, now resting her chin in her hand. "I'm conflicted on how to gender them," she muttered.

I eyed the table, then her. "Why don't we ask them?"

She glanced up at me, not removing her hand from her mouth. "Excuse me?"

"It's certainly a perplexing concept from our perspective, so why don't we allow them to decide how they wish to be addressed?"

"That isn't scientifically accurate."

"Why not?"

Dm. Venus considered me, then consulted her notes for a moment. I waited. And waited some more. In the end, she said, "Julius, take the refract back to the enclosure," and that was the end of that. You know, I never did find out what she decided to call them.

Mr. Whimsifinado's surgery was already over, although it would be some time before the narcotics worked their way from his system (Although privately, I think pixie blood itself might be a narcotic, and that's why every member of their species looks so tired and their pupils are practically non-existent). Juandissimo was waiting for me outside the door, so we brought Dame Wilcox through the halls together.

It's curious, you know. Each Fairy subspecies was housed on their own in the  _Faedivus_  corridor, because Fairies prefer close-knit family units, and most of them are territorial. Nearly every Anti-Fairy frolicked together in a single colony, as my people were a social species. The Refracted? They divided themselves into flocks according to sex, and lived according to a strict code of piety which insisted that damsels never sit in the presence of drakes, and which also prohibited the very thought of mating for pleasure. In my culture, the iris virus was perhaps our greatest status symbol. In theirs, coloured eyes were a sign of betrayal and shame. Multiple subspecies mingled together naturally in a single flock, but multiple sexes? No. When the three of us passed by, a dozen refract damsels rushed forward to see us. They pounded on the window glass and jabbed their talons down the corridor in the direction we were going. Dame Wilcox ignored them, staring directly forward, so I followed her example.

The pixie refracts had an enclosure all their own. I wasn't sure why. Perhaps plumes don't get along any better than their gyne counterparts do, or perhaps 'typical' refracts mocked the pixie ones for having brown feathers and purple hair. Who knows. Anyhow, Juandissimo unlocked the door with his wand when we arrived. I tipped my crown at Dame Wilcox in polite farewell. She ignored me, too. Just inside the enclosure, Mister's counterpart stood on a flat rock beside a pool of water, bullying her younger sisters with her snooty air. She broke off in irritation when Dame Wilcox arrived, and slunk saltily away among the tall yellow grass. Juandissimo shut the door, and locked it again. That was that.

"Well." I looked at him, and he looked at his feet. Tilting my head, I said, "I should be getting home for the evening."

 _"Sí,_ señor."

"Thank you. For… you know. Earlier, in the cabin."

_"Sí."_

I held out my hand, palm downturned. Juandissimo hesitated. He glanced up, questioning. Nod, encouraging. He began to reach forward… then stopped, and pulled back. I completed the gesture for him, pressing my palm against his. A smile cracked his quiet countenance, and he did look up and hold my gaze. I smiled and let him go. "I'll see you around, friend."

"See you," he repeated, his eyes crinkling with emotion. _"Mi amigo."_

"Times will change one day," I promised him, adjusting Lohai's bag against my shoulder. "Folk who are wishbirthed won't always be looked down upon. We've earned more rights for drones, we're striving for more rights for Anti-Fairies, and society will come through for  _luz mala_ like you someday. I may be but one Anti-Fairy, but I shall do everything in my power to ensure it."

 _"Gracias, amigo."_ Juandissimo lifted one hand to his neck and drew several crossing, swirling symbols with two fingers. When he finished, he placed one hand to his stomach and the other behind his back, and bowed. Then, with one final, shy smile at me - eye contact and everything, he flew back the way he had come. I watched him for a moment, my hands clasped behind my back. It seemed to me there was more of a bounce to his wings than usual. Nice chap. I looked forward to utilising his genetics in my experiments. I'd grab them tomorrow, perhaps. Tonight, I had to return to Anti-Fairy World and prepare a cold place to store Ilisa's sperm.

The quickest way outside from the Refracted hall involving passing through the Anti-Fairy tunnel. I swung through the place on rare occasion when I wished to visit with my own species during lunch or some such thing, but I hadn't been by in months. Anti-Wanda and Anti-Wendy were easy to spot with their swirls of blue hair, and it didn't take long to pick out Anti-Juandissimo, either. When I floated past, my hands tucked in my pockets, Anti-Wanda was sculpting a castle of black sand right beside his own, and I thought,  _Isn't that funny? He's a_  luz mala _just like his counterpart, but we Anti-Fairies aren't so picky, are we?_ Luz mala. _Gynes. Drones. Those with virgin pheromones versus those with mature ones. To us Anti-Fairies, they're all just 'Fairies.'_

I paused. Did that line of thought really show progressive thinking on my part? Or did it invalidate the many intricacies of a culture I had no right to weigh in on?

That was funny too, I realised. I felt perfectly all right calling the Fairies 'all Fairies' - proud of myself for not drawing lines of class distinction, even - yet I would never wish for the Fairies to lump all Anti-Fairies in the same group as though our various subspecies and customs were identical. In fact, as I reached the end of the tunnel, I recalled that the anti-will o' the wisps lived separately in the next hall over, in an enclosure better suited for those with moth wings than bats.

Hm.

So lost in thought was I that I didn't even register the twinkling sound of nix refract in the energy field. When I came around the corner, I found myself suddenly nose to nose with a young, shyly smiling damsel - a child - with the standard white facial feathers and glimmering golden hair. Very short hair, bundled in thick, springy curls. Gold wings, too, heavy and silent as an owl's. She wore pink robes that reached her ankles, but her feet were bare. The sparks in the energy field definitely suggested 'nix refract,' and her tall, five-pointed crown confirmed it. Ooh- I tried hard not to feel jealous that a child's crown floated half a dozen times higher than mine ever would.

"Excuse me, sir," she said, folding her hands. "My mommy and I came down to the Deep Kingdom to see my cousins who live here at the Eros Nest, but I got myself all mixed up, and now I'm plumb lost, sir. Can you help me?"

"Oh?" I resisted the urge to crouch down to her level and wrap my hands over my knees, even though she was a rather adorable little thing. "Why, of course! No matter how busy one may be, one should always make time for those in need, you know what I mean? Where did you last see your mother?"

The nix refract shifted her weight between her wings. "I don't know. I need to get back to the High Kingdom Barrier. My name's Dame Artemis. Dame Artemis Cairo."

"Erm." I raised one eyebrow. "You're a Refract. Are you allowed to speak your name down here on the lower 12 Planes of Existence? I was under the impression that's against your culture."

Dame Artemis looked at me, then grabbed her curls with both hands. "I forgot! I always forget stuff like that! … Well, my guardians call me Dame Artemis, so I'm sure it's fine. Can you please get me back to the Kingdom Barrier, sir?"

The  _Kingdom_  Barrier? I scratched behind my ear. "Um. Oof. You see, I can't  _poof_  you any higher than Plane 12, where Hy-Brasil and Tír Ildáthach end and Avalon begins. We Deep Kingdomers aren't really permitted to travel up there… Technically, I'm not allowed to go until I'm 200,000. And  _poof_ ing there from here will be terribly expensive, too. I'm not sure…"

The young dame wrung her hands, lowering her head. "I… I just thought I'd try, sir… But really, if you could maybe just get me as close as you can, that would do, sir. I… I think I can make it back on my own if you just point me the right way, and my mommy will probably find me as long as I'm close."

"Oh, all right," I relented. Maybe I could find some room for this in my budget, and buy that new desk with the eighteen drawers in it  _next_  decade. I let my arm drop. "I promised I could make time for a poor child, and so I shall. Come along, then- We'll have to step outside the Nest for this. Do you not have a wand?"

Dame Artemis shook her head, slipping her thumb inside her mouth. She reached her other hand up to me and grasped three of my claws. As we floated along, she said, "My mommy won't let me, sir. She says starpiece magic is a sin, and only core magic is pure and good."

"Hmph. There's no evidence of that. I say, there isn't a shred of evidence for that. Lack of regular magic usage will stunt your growth, you know; just ask a tomte. How old are you, anyway?"

"6,000 next century, sir."

Oh. I had… not been that tall as a 6,000-year-old. Probably. Tracking time inside a genie's lamp was difficult, after all. I shrugged. "Well, all right. Let's get you up there, then. Pip pip."

We hurried along, although frozen sweat drenched my fur. I hadn't even realised Anti-Fairies  _could_  sweat so much. Ilisa's sperm wouldn't stay frozen forever, and I had a long way yet to go before I reached the Castle. I could  _maybe_  try enchanting the vial to remain cold, but if the Eroses had decided against it, they must have had their reasons. I wasn't sure if touching the vial would count as magic-touching the sperm itself, but magic had unpredictable effects on mortal things at times. Food altered with magic lost all flavor and nutrition. For all I knew, a similar parallel was true in this case.

When we came upon the nearest emergency exit, I scanned my wand so the alarms wouldn't blare and let us out. Dame Artemis laughed, holding her hands towards the stars as though they were sunshine. "All right," I said, crouching beside her. I wrapped my arm around her waist and lifted my wand. "We're off to the High Kingdom now. Or as near as we can get, anyway. One ticket to the Hush World, coming up."

_Foop!_

My wand glittered blue. I'd half-expected it to sag with an unflattering noise, as it was prone to doing on random occasions, but it came through for me today. Dame Artemis and I dissolved into smoke and zipped into the sky. Her non-existent talons clenched my collar. Flashes of worlds shot across my vision - Plane 9, Plane 10, Plane 11 - before we crashed onto Plane 12 and reformed. I went sprawling on my chest and chin, the tails of my coat flopping so far forward, they slapped between my ears. My monocle flew off. Spitting out blue soil thick with crystals, I pushed myself onto my knees and dusted down my front.

"Oh, smashing. You know, I never can seem to get the hang of this nonsense. Anyway, here we are now, and that's the most important part about it."

"Whoa," Dame Artemis said, shielding her eyes. When I replaced my monocle, I examined my surroundings for the first time.

All the sky was purple, and every rock a cascade of blue. The black grass had become wild and overgrown, curling into knots and strangling the life out of thorns. Dame Artemis and I balanced on a precarious outcropping suspended high above a motionless pool. Silent waterfalls trickled into it from several points around the crater. A truly enormous beanstalk of a vine coiled into the clouds above. My eyes trailed upward. As a child, I'd always been taught that mountains hung upside-down on Plane 12. This seemed to be the case. Dame Artemis and I clung to one peak, and another bore down on us from above. I picked up a stone and flung it as high as I could. It didn't make it far before gravity reversed, and pulled the stone after it. It clattered when it fell.

"I've…" Her voice halted. Her grip tightened on my clothes. "I've never been to Plane 12 before."

I glanced around, holding her carefully to my side. "Neither have I, although I'm beginning to understand why next to no one lives here. It's nicknamed the Hush World for a good reason, I suppose." My eyes trailed towards a structure far in the distance that appeared to be a damaged castle, or rotted palace. It was separated from us by a vast empty drop that swirled with steam and disguised any solid ground. No leaves rustled in the barren trees. No animals prowled about. No birds raised their voices to fight the dark. My ears went back. "Something's wrong here. The energy field is torn in this dimension, more tattered than anywhere I've ever known before. Luck does not flow properly."

We sat for a quiet moment, clinging to one another and gazing at the distant ruins. She glanced at me sideways. "I thought you couldn't  _poof_  places you've never been before, sir."

"Sometimes you can. There are certain points in the energy field more stable than others, so one can sense them and lock onto their coordinates if one is well-tuned to the field. The two Divide Gates are good examples." I nodded to the enormous vine behind her. "I suppose that's your ticket home, then. Once you cross the Barrier, a Refract on the other side should be able to  _pop_  you wherever in the High Kingdom you need to go."

Dame Artemis flung her arms around my shoulders, crushing me with all her strength. "Thank you, thank you, sir!" she squealed, and kissed me on the cheek. Then, releasing me, she scrambled up the vine. At a certain point, gravity reversed on her, and she fumbled to keep going. I ensured she made it (politely averting my gaze from the underparts of her robes) before raising my wand again. Dame Artemis waved at me from above, then vanished into the underbelly of the High Kingdom. Rumour had it that Plane 13 was shockingly bright and sunny, and I hoped for her sake that was true. With a shake of my head, I was off to the Castle as quickly as I'd come.

I had school off the following day, so my shift at the Eros Nest began earlier than usual. When I scanned my wand at the front desk to clock in, three small cherub drakes, all clutching oversized bows and dressed in pink,  _poof_ ed in front of me in sync. The tallest threw a finger in my direction.

"Hey!"

"Future Eros Triplets?" I guessed as the three children swarmed around me. I sheathed my wand and held my ground. "Ooh, let me see. I know this." I pointed at the front and centre drake. "Drk. Cupid, Eros Morning, of course." Then I pointed to the shorter one on the left. "Drk. Lucius, Eros Afternoon." The third was the tall one. "And Drk. Apuleius. Eros Evening. Did I get that right?"

Drk. Cupid clapped and nodded, but Drk. Apuleius eyeballed me with a scowl. "What do you know about Refracts?"

"In general?" I tilted my head. "The Refracted are the third genus in the Fae family. White, feathery bodies. Their natural hair colours range between gold, brown, rose, peach, and silver. Golden wings, mostly. Huge black talons, larger than Anti-Fairy claws, in addition to scaly hands and feet. They keep to themselves in the High Kingdom, and almost never stray down here to the secular planes of existence. Why do you ask?"

Drk. Lucius grabbed my hand, shoved his nose in it, and drew in a great big sniff. "Uh," I said, pulling back. "What are you doing?"

"You smell like juvenile nix refract," he reported. "I can sense the magic spread on you. It's fading, but you can't hide it from me. Where did she go? We were tracking her, but then we lost her until now."

"Oh." I fought to maintain a straight face. "A nix refract? Did she, um, get out of her enclosure…?"

Drk. Cupid nodded empathetically. "Yeah, she always gets out. She's reeeaaally sneaky. So, Dm. Venus always makes us go get her back. It's like training. So? Give us the deets about where she went!"

"Er…" So those guardians that Dame Artemis had mentioned must be cherubs. That explained why they had no qualms about calling her by her name, even though that went against Refracted culture. They had to call her something in their reports, after all. I shifted my feet, not sure what more to say.

Drk. Apuleius grabbed my hand. The triple scoops in his pink hair barely came up to my shoulder while floating. "We'll have to take you to Dm. Venus."

"Your mum?"

Drk. Lucius glared at me. "Dm. Venus."

I sighed and adjusted my monocle as the three young cherubs banded together to push me along the corridor. Hopefully she wouldn't hold my question regarding the genders of the Wilcox trio against her.

You know, this could turn out all right for me. Perhaps today was the day I worked up my courage to tell her about Lohai and my plans to raise even more genie children in the future.

I was brought through the Holotype Hall shortcut again, although I avoided looking directly at Ilisa's portrait this time. The door to Dm. Venus' office was pink, as was most of the decor inside: Walls, desk, carpet, bookshelves, and so on. Two squashed pillow-chairs (bags filled with beans, I think) sat in front of her desk like mushrooms. Dm. Venus herself was already seated in an enormous armchair, even grander than the one she'd used in the examination room. When Drk. Cupid opened the door, she tilted down her reading glasses and fixed him with a glowing stare.

"Cupid," she said. "Mommy's working."

"Um," Drk. Cupid said, shrinking away. His wings bushed behind him. His hands flew to his face. I watched this silently, making idle calculations in my head. The future Triplet of the Morning was a nervous mama's boy. Interesting.

Drk. Apuleius had no such hesitations. He put his arm in front of me, so his wrist bumped against the slit on my stomach. "Dm. Venus, we think this guy helped Dame Artemis escape."

"'This guy?'"

"This anti-fairy," Drk. Apuleius corrected himself, crossing his arms. "She got out, and we can smell her on his hands."

Dm. Venus stared at me, one hand near her cheek and her elbow braced against her desk. "Did you break a nix refract from her enclosure?"

Frozen prickles ran down my forehead and settled in my cheeks. My left ear flicked back. "No, dame." In my defence, that wasn't a lie. She was already out of her enclosure by the time our paths crossed.

"Hmm." Dm. Venus shifted her attention to her triplets again. Drk. Lucius fidgeted at my side, and Drk. Cupid had retreated into the corridor. Their mother dismissed them with a wave. "Go have your dinner. I'll speak with this anti-fairy a moment."

"Yes, Dm. Venus," the trio chorused, and flew off in a scramble of feathers.

"Sit," Dm. Venus said to me. The heavy door fell shut.

I looked at the bean bags, then at her. She had to be kidding. But when she indicated them with a lofty wave of her hand, I realised that she wasn't. Morosely, I sat in one of the sagging "seats" and ran my thumbs along my knees.

"So." The cherub steepled her fingers beneath her chin. "You're the young anti-fairy who's interested in breeding genies."

Oh. She knew about that? I regarded her with caution, tightening my hands around my legs. "Yes, dame. My name is Julius Anti-Lunifly."

"It's a pleasure to have you visit me," she said, skimming her eyes over the part of me that wasn't concealed behind her desk. "I'm glad to hear someone as young as you is taking an interest in my line of work. Breeding is my specialty. Now, tell me. What research concerning genies have you done that has led you here today?"

My mouth dried. Who had let on to her about my interest in genies? And how long had she known? I squirmed my wings. "Erm. Ah. I… I can tell the males and females apart from one another at a glance from adolescence onward. Healthy females develop thicker bodies. I, um… I know that when breeding, the females ought to be brought to the male rather than the other way around, seeing as they are territorial creatures by nature. This upsets them less."

"All of that is true," she acknowledged. A disinterested note began creeping into her voice. She removed her reading glasses, and set them aside with a click. "What else?"

"Let's see…" I took a moment to swallow and gather my thoughts. "Well. I know that orange is an exceedingly rare tail coloration. I know it takes time to prepare them for breeding. Err… For conception to occur, a doe must first be exposed to a month of cool temperatures to signal to their bodies that the season is changing. Seasons were, um, a thing on their native planet. Then when temperatures warm again, it…" I withdrew my wand and fiddled with the cap. My ears lowered. "It gets them in the mood, and then they breed. This is why breeding on their own is near impossible in places with cool year-round temperatures such as the cloudlands. They just can't."

"Correct. How can you tell they're ready to reproduce?"

"Bucks are fertile any time of the year so long as they breed in a warm environment. It's mainly the does you have to be concerned about. After they're exposed to a week of warm temperatures, a doe's tail glows brighter to signal she's receptive. Some people call it the 'ghost gene.'"

Dm. Venus nodded without emotion. "When and how will you know the pregnancy took?"

"Well, the mother might just tell you, first of all. If she lets you, you can palpate her stomach. And… even if she won't talk to you much about it, even in the early months of the pregnancy you can tell when the mother is expecting from the way she coils when she sleeps, always with her tail perfectly in the middle of her coil instead of wrapped around her." I scratched at my neck. "Th-the whole thing is a long and delicate process and leads to five years of pregnancy by our calendar. It's thought that genies developed such powerful magic to fend for themselves partly as a result of this slow reproductive rate."

Dm. Venus leaned back in her seat, keeping her fingertips below her chin. "So you have done your research. You're a very interesting child, Julius. But I have one thing to ask. I assume you're aware that genies give birth to whole litters of candles."

"Yes, dame."

"And you've found a genie you're interested in introducing to ours."

I hesitated. "Lohai is too young to breed at this time, but someday she will, I hope."

She pursed her lips. A loose strand of her braid curled around her ear. "If you intend to pursue a life of breeding genies, I want you to realize they're born in groups for good reason. Genies may be rule-free when it comes to granting wishes, but the universe chose to balance this by making them incredibly fragile. Fairy babies are born with blubbery exoskeletons that protect them until their connection with the magical energy field has fully stabilized. Genies are not blessed with a similar privilege. They're produced in litters because if they were born one at a time, the race would have gone extinct hundreds of millennia ago. The candles must always be kept warm and dry, and properly fed. They're frail and aren't likely to survive rough handling, head trauma, disease, or even high emotional stress. No exceptions."

"Yes, dame." I shifted in my squashed chair. "And I know I'm an anti-fairy. A late-litterborn too. I will not handle them without thick gloves to p-prevent them from coming into contact with my cold skin."

"I'm glad. But, even with the utmost care, the mortality rate for candles is extremely high." Dm. Venus locked her gaze on mine. "Especially when it's the dam's first litter, it's very possible that none of them will survive to lamphood. It can be quite frustrating for the caretaker. When the time comes, assuming you continue this pursuit, I would advise you not to get attached."

I nodded. "I understand, dame, but I have been researching genies for years. I've studied how to care for them, and I plan to devote all necessary time to ensuring their survival."

"All right. And if you have to make a choice, save the does. There are never enough female genies to go around, and the universe doesn't need half as many bucks as it does have."

I nodded again, a bit slower this time. Dm. Venus nodded back.

"Good. And you know the dam's milk will be deficient in iron?"

"Oh, yes. Genies, um, they're planet-dwellers, and normally the candles would gain the iron they need from the dirt they pick up while scrambling over and basking on warm rocks. However, vapour and cinders lack that necessary iron, as will a lamp if the mother did not prepare the space properly for raising her offspring. As I am raising the young indoors, I will be providing them with an iron supplement I designed and injecting it into their skin directly."

"Kill the white-tails if you ever get one," she said simply, stretching her arms. "I'm aware it sounds cruel, but it is necessary. Their digestive systems are as malformed as a black-egg's. They steal milk and don't grow, and always die within a few months. Removing them early is the best way to ensure survival of the others. The dam will push them out of the nest and into the cold when she has the strength, but you may as well make it easy on her. And privately, I would suggest you go ahead and kill the runts too. Approach the birth realising you will not be able to save her entire litter. Instead of attempting a foolish mission, devote all your resources into the most healthy few."

For the third time, I nodded, but didn't reply.

Dm. Venus stared at me, neither frowning nor smiling. "That's how genie breeding works. One day, you'll want to know this. Any last questions?"

"Erm… In your experience, when will their powers begin to show?"

Her nails tapped against her desk. "If removed from their dam at nine months and given a lamp of their own, the first sparks will be noticeable as early as a decade. Two or three if they're left in her lamp to split her supply. It would easily be a century or more out in the wild, depending on the environment. Anything else?"

I glanced down at Lohai's carpet bag. "No, dame, thank you. I think that about covers it."

"Very well. I trust you will be able to manage. If the dam loses her whole litter early, she may be rebred as early as six months after giving birth." Dm. Venus extended her hand. "May I examine your doe?"

I lifted the bag from my shoulder and slid it across her desk. The cherub snapped her fingers, and the fabric instantly turned transparent to reveal Lohai, in her tiny  _en lamp_  form, sleeping in the soil and coals at the bottom. The tip of her smoky tail twitched as though she sensed us watching her even in her dreams.

"A rose." Dm. Venus sounded satisfied with the colour. "Still young, but she looks to be a lovely specimen. We'll need to run some tests to confirm her health before we do anything, of course. I'm putting the finishing touches on a large project of mine at a moment, so it will take several weeks before I can look over the results. In the meantime, might I suggest you enjoy a private tour of the menagerie?"

… Did she even realise I'd been gathering research for her 'rather large project' for the last four hundred years? Or that I knew my way around a large part of the Eros Nest by instinct at this point? Instead of asking, I said, "I would enjoy that very much, dame. Thank you."

She watched me stand up. "I will personally send for you when the time comes to breed her. Until then, she'll be held for study and placed on the proper diet."

"Thank you," I repeated. I abandoned my bean bag and started for the door, but my hand refused to complete the simple movement of turning the knob. I pulled it back. Licking my lips, I turned around again. "Dm. Venus? May I ask you one last thing?"

"Just one last thing," she said, sliding Lohai's carpet bag to one side of her desk. She flapped out a very long scroll in its place. "I have work to do."

I closed my eyes, holding my fingertips against my mouth. "Did Ilisa Maddington… have a wheelchair?"

Two beats of silence.

"Yes," she said stiffly.

"It's not included in her Holotype Hall portrait."

"During her time here at the Nest, she never used it. The artist didn't think it was a necessary detail to add in."

My ears blazed. The cherubs had taken that chair away once. Why did they have to take it away again? I rubbed my arm, sliding my hand down to my wrist. "Do you, um, still have it lying around? And if so, could I perchance see it?"

Dm. Venus huffed through her nostrils. Her reading glasses returned to her nose. "Julius, I'm very busy. I don't have time to search this massive facility for  _chairs."_

I held her gaze, clenching my fangs. My ears went flat. Both cheeks burned. My spine coiled into a spring. If steam began leaking from my ears, I wouldn't be surprised. "Ah, didn't Ilisa leave you something important just before she died? A book, I think?"

"I have work to do," Dm. Venus said, getting up to check something on a shelf behind her. "Leave me now."

"There was a book," I whimpered, my eyes filling with tears. "Please… It's important."

"Julius, go. You've already been dismissed."

"FOR TARROW'S SAKE, VINNIE, I'M HAVING AN IDENTITY CRISIS AND I NEED TO TALK TO YOU, SO SHUT THE [redacted] UP AND PARK YOUR PUFFY REAR END IN THAT FAT SEAT RIGHT NOW!"

Dm. Venus flashed around, her eyes screaming into mine. I fell back, clutching my chest. My other hand grabbed at my bangs.

"Oh my gods. Oh my gods! Did I really j-just scream at you like that? I- I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know- I don't know what came over me. Oh my gods, oh my gods, I just did that. I just did that. I yelled at you. You're Eros Morning. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It- it won't ever happen again as long as I live, I swear."

"Is there something you _want?"_  she spat.

"A diary," I choked out. My claws curled in deeper. I pinched my own skin. "I-it was blue. Light blue. It had a butterfly on the cover. In the lower right corner, above a white flower. Very simple. A-and there was a pink ribbon for marking your place. When you were still a child, I-Ilisa met you in the camp - the war camp outside the rear entrance to the tunnels - and asked y-you to hold onto it for a little while, until she sent someone to get it. The tunnels were too dark, and sh-she was going to fight, and couldn't write in it anymore. I- I- I need to take it back now. Please."

Dm. Venus affixed me with a peculiar look. Her shoulders didn't relax, per se, but some of their tension did ease. Her wings rustled. In slow motion, she rose from her desk and floated over to a filing cabinet against the opposite wall. I watched her pull out a thick stack of bound bark strips. She stared at the cover for quite some time. Then she turned towards me again, lifting it so I could see the front. "Is this the one?"

Unable to form words, I jerked my head once in a nod. She held her arm out as far as she could reach, not coming any closer.

"Here. Take it. Don't bring it back. Don't ever speak to me again. From now on, Charite and Ludell will relay between us instead."

"Okay," I whispered. I stepped forward and lifted the old diary from her hands. "Th-thank you. So much. I'm so terribly flustered. I leave you my most s-s-sincere apologies, I assure you. It won't ever happen again."

"Anti-Lunifly," she said before I could turn away. "Come here."

Oh no…

I didn't want to, I really didn't, but I lifted my blurry gaze to meet hers.

"Come here, Julius," she repeated, more firmly this time. She snapped her fingers and pointed at the floor.

My wings jerked to obey the command. I swallowed. When I reached her side, Dm. Venus wrapped her hand around the bottom of my chin. She tilted my head to one side, then the other, scrutinizing my face as though I were a sweet fruit she intended to eat. As she did, I searched her expression. My body began to shake. I pressed the diary to my chest and ran my tongue along my fangs. My toes curled.

"Do I scare you?" Dm. Venus asked in a low voice, the feathers on her wings prickling.

I wasn't sure how to answer that. I wanted to say 'No.' Or rather, the old me wanted to say 'No.' I said nothing.

"There are ways to kill an Anti-Fairy," she told me calmly. Her thumb slid down my throat until it rested on my windpipe. My core began to beat nervously inside my head, but although Dm. Venus brushed the sensitive nerve, she did not press against it. She watched me the entire time, pink eyebrows raised. "A pup dying inside its mother's brood pouch is certainly one method. Being swallowed by a full-grown glider snake with inrita in its stomach acid is one of my personal favourites. Siphoning an overdose of unfiltered magic from your counterpart's lines directly to your core is yet another, and it's very, very easy to make such drowning look like an accident when you are as powerful as I am."

My eyes darted to the side. Dm. Venus clenched my face, so I flicked them back.

"I know many secrets of the universe, Anti-Lunifly. I am Dame Venus Eros, Triplet of the Morning. At the stroke of midnight, every midnight of my life since I was fifty years old, I take on my sacred duty to scour the universe for signs of sexual passion. I fire my arrows in lovers' backs as I have been tasked to by Aengus himself. I knit your yoo-doo doll with my own hand. I watched when your parents conceived you among the milbark trees by the riverbank, slices of aitvaras meat roasting to crisps on a nearby fire. I was there. Of all the eggs inside your father's head, I selected yours to pass through his fallopian tube. I was there. I watched when your grandparents conceived their children. I was there. Not a single creature of this generation comes into being without my say-so. Have I made myself clear? I. Was. There. Those were  _my_  arrows which gave you life. My arrows! My arrows! I  _MADE_  YOU!"

Soft tears raked down my cheeks, sizzling with horror. I blinked up at her, and still said nothing. _My mother always said they honey-locked in the afternoon- Dm. Charite was the Triplet on duty,_  I wanted to scream back. But I didn't. Dm. Venus tightened her fingers into my cheeks. Her nails broke through my fur to my facial scales. Her second hand slapped beside her first, cupping my cheek as she leered over my face. Her wings stretched above her, shedding greasy feathers like drops of rain.

"You would be smoke without me, little child. Stupid, wretched, wild  _smoke_. Are we clear?"

No answer.

"Are we  _clear_ , Julius?"

"Y-yes, dame. As a crystal, I hope."

Her eyes raged with thunder. Lightning crackled in her blood. "I am Dame Venus Eros. I control the most powerful magic in the universe. I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it just as easily. I can bless your loins with eternal fertility. I can rip your ovaries apart with the faintest flutter of my eyelashes. Your nature spirits are  _nothing_. Who is there when the gods make love?  _Who is there?_  Say my name!"

"D-D-D-" I tried to clamp my hand to my mouth to hold back my choked sobs, but Dm. Venus did not allow that. Her nails pinched my throat sharper than any claw.

_"Say it!"_

"V-Venus," I whimpered, the name forever soiled now. "V-V-Venus Eros."

Her eyes narrowed, glowing with icy flame. "Engrave it in your prayers. I'm  _above_  the gods. I alone am the deity you owe your life to. Don't you  _ever_  forget that. I suggest you do not test my patience again."

"No, d-dame. My s-s-s-sincere apologies, d-dame."

She squeezed my windpipe, digging her thumbnail through my fur and between a patch in my scales I hadn't realised was vulnerable. My ears  _exploded_  with bells and alarms. It was every shrieking brass musical instrument I'd ever heard and every one I'd yet to know. It was ice picks on chalkboards. Wand blasts above my head. Howling foops preying on my children. My ethereal contact with Cosmo's core snapped like fangs around my throat. Razor-sharp chunks of frozen magic plunged from my karmic weave and slammed into my skull. I didn't even know Unseelie Courters  _could_  break contact with their hosting counterparts like that. Could you still regenerate without access to breathing magic? I should have had plenty of it flowing through my body to sustain me, but for some reason, I gagged. Forgetting my place, I grabbed Dm. Venus' wrist and tried to shove her back. My claws raked her soft skin. My feet kicked off the ground. Instead of noticing, she leaned forward.

"Aha. No. That isn't good enough, Julius. Say it again."

"D-D-D-Dame, I c-can't br-breathe…"

"Say. It. Again."

My wings scrambled wildly behind me, fighting to break away from the shrieking sound killing me from the inside out. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe. Averting my eyes, which spilled heavy teardrops on my shoe, I choked out, "I am b-b-beyond horrified by my own traitorous tongue, Dm. Venus. What I said was uns-s-speakably rude, and I most certainly overstepped my place. I shall pray to the spirits every day for as long as I live that you will be able to f-find it within your godly power to forgive a lowly anti-fairy such as I. I s-s-swear by my crown, it will never happen again."

Dm. Venus examined me a moment longer with a half-lidded, sneering stare that could have chilled even Mr. Whimsifinado to the bones. I spat pleas and whimpered promises I'd have slain spirits to keep. Then, a single finger at a time, she released me and withdrew her arm. I slammed to the floor, crumpling my wings beneath me. I gasped. I choked. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe. Oh gods, oh gods, oh my gods. My link with Fairy-Cosmo was gone. Just…  _gone_. I tasted dry air inside of me. No magic. None whatsoever.

It took me four minutes of my chest heaving before somehow, somewhere, the threads in my karmic weave managed to intertwine with Cosmo's consciousness again. I locked into his magic lines, and with him, my access to our shared magic pool. I inhaled again. Dm. Venus watched the whole time in silence. At last, my shaking steadied out. Hugging the diary to my chest, I risked a glance upward at the stiff cherub sneering down at me.

"Thank you, Julius," she said, as calmly as holiday well-wishes. "That will suffice. Now leave me. Never darken my mood with your presence again. I won't hear another word from you again for as long as you live, or I will kill you where you stand. Is that understood?"

"I'm s-s-sorry." I couldn't race out of there fast enough. Didn't even bid Lohai good-bye. It was several minutes before I stopped running. I slammed my back to a wall inside the damsels' restroom near the muntjac enclosure, far, far away from the fae corridors, and slid to the floor with a plop. It was fifteen more minutes before I'd calmed down enough to uncurl from my shaking ball.

… I missed Huey. Huey was a fine example of an Eros Triplet. He played with me, flirting like a gentleman and soothing my anxieties with filthy promises- assurances that I'd nearly served my time at the Nest and would soon fly free again. Almost made love to him once, sprawled across him in bare minimum clothing and plucking at the pink hairs on his muscular chest. Never went all the way, but we essentially could have. Oh, drat! I wasn't supposed to let that memory get through. Sorry. Sorry. It's so hard, it's so hard… I'm trying my best.

I opened the crumbling diary to its middle and blew off the dust. Choppy strings of words, divided into stanzas, rolled over for me belly-up. Numbers were scribbled beside a few of them. I stared blankly at the page. Were those song lyrics? Why would…?

No. Focus. Everything has a reason. I leaned over the diary (which fell into shadow as my head blocked the automatic bulb-lights) and realised for the first time that I was staring down at my own handwriting. Cursive slanted left, capital J's in place of I's. Stanzas, stanzas… poetry…

Wait a moment. Those weren't lyrics. Those were  _names_. Drake names. The first several pages of Ilisa's diary were covered in drake names. And not ones randomly picked off the top of her head, I imagined. Some were underlined once, others twice, and it wasn't long before I realised I'd marked the drakes who had successfully borne my children. Butterfly-winged 'dottie' children, anyway. I thumbed through the pages in search of actual prose, my horror steadily growing when the list of names went on and on and on. Found a Julius and several Cosmos in there, their names written identically to the way I wrote my own: Big tail on the C, underlining the rest of it. Good smoke! Was there a single drake alive in that time period that Ilisa  _didn't_  have a round with? Were the drakes fertilised through artificial insemination included in this list, or was this just an account of everyone I'd ever…

Oh gods. No wonder I was so obsessed with raising children of my own today. Could I still call myself a virgin even knowing who I used to be?

The names did change to prose eventually, albeit rather poetic prose written in my hauntingly familiar fluffy cursive script. The little i's were dotted with hearts and everything. Sarcastically, if I knew myself well enough.

After several minutes of frantic searching, my patience evaporated. I flipped a dozen pages farther ahead, flushing furiously at everything my eyes skimmed over. For Rhoswen's sake, I didn't need the juicy details of my previous sexual escapades. I needed direct answers! Was I right about being Ilisa? Was I wrong? What? Had I even left myself an explanation in case my plans should work?

Page 204.  _I never asked for this. I've never had a husband. Only faces in the night._

Page 216.  _The Zodii believe in reincarnation. Oh, I ever so hope they're right. I need another chance. I want a life that wasn't stolen from me. Look out, universe, because your princess is coming back. I don't care how long it takes. I'll find a way. There simply must be someone, somewhere, whom no other spirit wants to inhabit. That will be my ticket back. No one ever turns down Ilisa Maddington. If it's the nature spirits themselves I have to [seduce],_   _then so be it. I suppose I'd better brush up on my astrology, ahahaha._

Page 218.  _This is not a good plan by any means. I am not confident in my ability to woo a giant chicken goddess. Ah, well. Worth a try, hm?_

Zodii investigation, worship, demons, acolytes, Temples, notes, architecture, Sunnie is a gorgeous hunk of muscle for a nerdy scholar, want to bear his children, flirting in the echo chamber, actually spending the night sleeping beside the man, Twis will absolutely kill her for this, Sunnie is totally into her, nature spirits aren't normally this easy but Ilisa really is that bloody fritzy so here we go, explicit, explicit, blah blah blah, allegedly had her mind addled in the process and went gumdrop insane, clearly not true considering that I'm reading a first-hand account of this, raising Skyleene as her apprentice ambassador, war, war, pranks during war, more war, extremely detailed secret Fairy battle tactics, abandoning secret Fairy battle tactics in favour of seducing her enemies on the field, this does not work because they're Anti-Fairies who have their pride, everyone thinks she's insane and mostly ignores her, Ilisa feigning she's gone off the deep end, double agent stuff, travelling across the cloudlands through the Soil Temple's tunnel system in the Year of the Fallen Mountain…

There. Halfway down Page 291. Crooked handwriting, with a smear of dirt across the page.

_I would give anything to fly unrestrained again._

That was the final entry. I closed my eyes, and leaned my head back against the wall. Well. Well, well, well. I'd made it back around in the end somehow or other. I could vouch for that, even if no one else believed me. I knew it. Absolutely. I held my hand against my chest, envisioning the soft flutter of wispy wings along my back. When you know, you just know.

And then I began to laugh. Ohhh, to think of it! Once the most desirable will o' the wisp in the universe, and now a lowly little anti-fairy with horrid anxieties and nothing more to his name!

Their name? Her name?

…  _His_  name.


	22. Loopy Loopy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter parallels the Origin of the Pixies chapter "Fruitful Fruition."

_In which Julius accidentally stumbles across the greatest loophole ever encountered in the history of Anti-Fairies in the Autumn of the Red Petals_

* * *

I leaned against my desk, chin resting on my folded arms. My tail whisked back and forth in a discontent state. The sperm vial and egg canister both hovered before me, between my stacks of parchment and well-worn quills. Floating, suspended, in their little bubble of cold magic.

Sperm. Eggs. Sperm. Eggs.

 _"Kkh."_ I rubbed the heel of my hand against my eye, pushing it up into my bangs. Then I yawned. "Bloody Darkness, what time is it? I swear I must have run calculations all night…"

Logic warned me bringing a child into this world to raise as my own while not even a legal adult myself was a larger burden than I could tackle at this time. Emotion pointed out I may not have much time before the cherubs discovered what I planned to do.

Leaning my cheek in my hand, I drew one claw across the surface of the magic bubble. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Around in around, in spirals and vines. I exhaled in silence.

What if this was the only chance I ever had? What if Dm. Venus reclaimed what I'd stolen? Then what? Was I meant to live helpless and desperate forever? I groaned and wrinkled my hair in my claws. Making decisive calls was physical pain, and I wished I was married to someone who would make them all for me. Already I'd gone back and forth for two consecutive nights, weighing cons and inventing pros. To create a child, or to hold out for hope?

_It's your fate. It's decided._

My hands clenched into fists against the desk. I bowed my head. My tail whipped a little faster. When opportunity crosses one's path, opportunity should be taken. That was the Anti-Fairy way. Faced with the choice before me, to indulge myself now while I had the chance, is what any Anti-Fairy in the universe would do.

Yet I hesitated. Why?

Tearing myself from the table, I clasped my hands behind my back and began to circle my study on wing. This was wrong, all of it. All so wrong. Opportunity had  _not_  crossed my path- this was  _not_  my natural destiny. Stumbling across Ilisa's long-preserved sperm, yes, well… Perhaps that was fated. But returning to claim Juandissimo's eggs after I'd already turned my back… that was a choice. An attempt to seize more than my fair share of fate. I'd broken sacred Anti-Fairy law, and someday soon, I would have to be punished for it. Tarrow only bestows upon us a certain quantity of luck each lifetime. Those who abuse the rules should never take the reins of destiny upon themselves.

_It's your fate. It's decided._

I halted my pacing and whipped my head around, glaring at the bubble above my desk. It's glimmering taunted me, forcing my gnashing teeth to clench. With a muffled whimper, I flew back to it. I wrapped the bubble in my hands and clung on, pressing my cheek and knees all around its surface and restraining it with tender care. "Oh, my darling, how I adore you! Such a tragedy is this, to be so close and yet intended to stand apart for a season more. Child, I long to cradle you. To caress your soft head with my hand, to kiss your tiny claws with my tender lips… Alas, I cannot!"

I squeezed the bubble tighter, until it squished into an oval. "At least, not yet! For a fae child is one conceived of both physical and magical means. Sperm and egg are nothing without proper fertilization. But who shall offer the yellow magic to bring you to life? Why, an Anti-Fairy can contribute such a thing, for our magic is shared with that of our hosts, but I beseech you, lend your unborn ears to a broken man's bitter quandary!" Rubbing my cheek against the bubble, I glared into the corner of my room. "Alas, while my physical body is growing strong and quick, I have yet to enter the more magical side of puberty, and cannot yet produce the energy frequency you require to form life. If I should hold out for adulthood until I can, my secret theft may be discovered and you torn apart from me. But if I act now, you shall not be wholly mine. Magic carries no genetics, but it is the principle of the thing which constrains my hand- you understand that, don't you, dear pet? Oh, what is a longing father to do? What does he do, my dear? It's too much- too much, I say!"

A sudden strong tapping sounded on the wall beside my study door. "Julius?" That was Anti-Elina. "Dr. Whimsifinado is here to see you."

I squeaked and jerked back from the bubble. It floated above my head, out of reach. I glanced up at it, bobbing there against the ceiling, then at the door. My chest shook. Was Ambrosine outside right now? Could he sense my movements from the corridor? If I went for the bubble, it would only make him suspicious. What if he began investigating? What if he made a report of what he found? No, no… better to leave the bubble where it was, surely… floating silently up there beside the coats thrown over my roosting bar. Perhaps he wouldn't notice it.

Stubbornly, I wiped my fist across my mouth, smoothed my shirt, and then opened the door to find my High Countess and therapist waiting for me. Ambrosine wore a ridiculously blinding shade of tomato red today, his salt and pepper hair primly combed apart from the pencil-thin swirl curling up as it always did from the back. I took one look at him, and broke down in sobs.

"You were right! I  _am_  a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body. It's all true!"

Ambrosine reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a clean handkerchief. He offered it to me in a borderline smug sort of way. "Why don't you sit down?"

Oh, it would have been more natural for me to roost upside-down. But I didn't want Ambrosine studying the contents of my magic bubble long enough to realise what they were. At least if I was down here, his eyes were less likely to stray. I sat in my desk chair and held my knees stiffly. Ambrosine took Mona's armchair. Anti-Elina bid us both farewell and shut my study door.

"It's been some time since you've come to see me, Julius," Ambrosine said, holding his clasped hands on the notebook in his lap.

"Yes, yes… Thank you for the bottled pheromones; I'm certain they've been working wonderfully." I rubbed my arms up and down. "Ambrosine, please. I need you to help me sort out my feelings about this mess. I'm a reincarnation of a Fairy. I know I am. I have some of her memories."

Ambrosine paused. He put his head to one side. I recognised in an instant that he didn't believe me, but instead of saying so outright, he simply said, "You're not the first Anti-Fairy who's spoken to me about reincarnation, and you're not the first one who's come to me with questions regarding gender. Would you care to lead this conversation?"

"Anti-Fairies are supposed to be reincarnations of their ancestors who were born in the same year of the zodiac. That's what we're taught. Upon death, our souls can choose to hold out for the chance to be an Anti-Fairy in our year again, or we can be reborn as an animal or aspect of nature instead, if that is the will of the spirits. I'm the son of a concubine and a castle servant. None of my Water year ancestors cared to reincarnate as me, for all wished to hold out for a better option. So a Fairy who held Zodii beliefs appealed to them, asking if she might have my life as her own. Her first life had been one in a million and it hadn't always been pretty, so the nature spirits allowed it. That's how it happened."

"How do you feel this changes things for you?"

I traced an exhausted palm up my face. Slowly, I sank down into the soft padding of my chair. "How doesn't it? Gods, Ambrosine. All my friends know which of their ancestors reincarnated into them. For smoke's sake, Ashley is his own mother. And they're all Anti-Fairies. Having been a Fairy in my past life means I can't relate to them when they share stories. And they're going to find out about this eventually. Either that, or they'll assume I'm a ding-dong for not being able to figure out whom I 'actually' used to be, and they'll taunt me for that instead. I suppose I could make somebody up, but I'll really be in for it if one of my relatives ends up reincarnating as them too. I just don't know what to do."

Ambrosine nodded and traced his hand across his blank notebook page. He glanced down and began to write something. "Reincarnation is a very interesting subject. Do you know much about the person you believe yourself to have been in your past life? Perhaps a name?"

I inhaled, then blew the air out again. My hand fell to my lap. "Ilisa Maddington."

The energy field turned immediately frozen. Ambrosine dropped his quill on his book, his jaw slackening, eyes enormous.

He didn't believe me. My temper began to bubble in my cheeks and in my chest. I struggled to hold back any bitter words I might regret, but instead I snapped, "I remember the day you came in! You were my last one for the night. Powder blue vest. I was holding a clipboard with your name on it, and I tossed my head and laughed about how the lot of you shouldn't let your jaws flap too much despite the fact that their empress had arrived. I called you in and sent the rest of the hopefuls home. You brought me Earth flowers; I had you drop them on the dresser with all the others. You spent an awfully long time in my bath and didn't even bother to shave your legs. I remember being annoyed about that."

Ambrosine's fingers clenched into his notebook as I needled him. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his wings still. Nonetheless, his tone remained steady. "That could be anyone. Perhaps you've read too many first-person accounts of Ilisa's history."

"'Save your breath, butterbatch. You'll be needing it in a sec.' Ha! I remember now. I was the first damsel you ever kissed. 'Aw, jeepers, Dm. Maddington.' That's what you said to me.  _That's what you said!"_  My knees clenched together. I wrapped my hands around them, digging in my claws. "You asked to braid my hair. I told you no."

"Everyone knows I have a thing when it comes to hair," he muttered.

"Your mother had a saucerbee tournament that day."

"Wrong. My mother retired from saucerbee when I was just a few decades old."

"Wait," I said, snatching desperately at the threads of memory. "Your mother… was  _watching_  a saucerbee game that day. A small one, for children. You have two younger siblings, a sister and a brother. Ara and Alik. Your father caught you while you were leaving the Nest the next morning and flipped his lid. Oh gods, don't get me started on your father." I rolled my eyes. "When the Eroses distributed tickets allowing drakes to spend a night with me, Praxis bought up dozens of them and would return to me every night he could get away, telling stories of how his blind wife was too clueless to know. Disgusting old man. The creep of the crop. Poor Nettle Gumswood. Alik isn't Nettle's; did you know that? The lad just didn't inherit my wings. Imagine that: a noble fairy with a half-brother. Where is your precious lifetime monogamy now?" I shook my head and picked my claw at a loose thread in my chair. "My job was to be a breeder, so honey contraceptives were forbidden, of course. Considering how often Praxis came around, it was only a matter of time before it happened. Never let it be said I'm shy about giving my all. I believe the pregnancy happened the third time he paid me a visit, although it didn't stop him from coming back for more."

"That's enough."

I fell silent, glaring at him with sour expectations. Ambrosine refused to look at me. Instead, he stared down at the notebook in his lap. His wings were shaking. I could hear the sweat droplets dribbling through his hair.

"Those… aren't your memories. Anti-Fairies have the power to mind-meld. You have no connection to Ilisa Maddington. You picked those memories up from my brain. It's lies. All of it. My father loved my mother. A lot. A  _lot…_  He wasn't a good man in many respects, but he did love my mother, at least…"

I crossed one of my legs over the other and leaned back, folding my arms behind my head. "Ambrosine, I assure you, this is entirely real. I'm Ilisa Maddington reborn. While I can't recall all her memories at will, some of them are stronger than others when I'm around stimuli that recall them. Like you, for example. I remember you vividly."

"Why now and not before, when you were under a decade old?" he asked accusingly.

"I… I don't know. Perhaps it's because… I better know my past now? My eight-year-old self wasn't ready to handle such things. The Ilisa side of me…" My gaze dropped. "Yes. I remember. She… I kept some things guarded from myself. On purpose. Suppressed. It's… difficult to explain to someone who isn't an Anti-Fairy and doesn't want to believe, but… Ilisa and I, we're a single entity. There isn't a different 'she' and 'he' in my head, as we share the same soul. I, Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly, am what resulted from me, Ilisa Maddington, growing up in a certain set of circumstances. And I… am keeping some things from myself until I'm older." I shifted my wings. "In fact, I think I really meant to keep  _all_  of this from myself until I was older. It just so happened that when I visited the Eros Nest, the memories became too strong, and slipped through my defenses. Some are still suppressed, because I know myself well enough to know I can't handle everything just yet. Oh  _gods_ , it's going to absolutely destroy me when those buried memories come trickling in…" I hiccuped accidentally and pulled my knees up to my chest. "I don't need to know all that. Ohh, why do I say things I myself would hate to hear? Why can't I keep my thoughts innocent and clean? Oh gods, oh gods, no one wanted to know that! Why am I  _like_  this? Why did I say that thing I said when I was eight? No one needed that…"

Ambrosine shook his head. He tapped one finger. Tap. Tap. "Julius, I'm going to do something that I should have done long ago. I hope that you can find it within you to forgive me for this delay someday."

My ears flicked back to attention. This couldn't possibly end well. "Oh?"

"I have decided… that I am not the best person to offer you care and support. So if you're willing, I would like to refer you to someone who might better understand your situation and help you more than I can."

My face burst into cold. "Are you serious?" I shrieked, jumping to my feet. My hand went for my empty wand sheath. " _Now_ of all times? As soon as I accept that I used to be a Fairy, you throw me out like this?"

"I'm not throwing you out," Ambrosine reassured me with his constant low-voiced patience. He hadn't even flinched at my outburst, and even now held my gaze. "I only want for you to receive the best possible care you can. I've finally realised that when it comes to treating you, I am out of my league."

"You wanted me to accept that I'm a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body!"

"I didn't mean it like this. You're talking reincarnation. I'm not as familiar with the concept as she is." Ambrosine jotted down some information on a strip of bark and passed it over to me. I didn't know how that made me feel, watching him do that without needing to look the contact info up or double-check it in any way.

"Is she an Anti-Fairy?" I asked, not taking it.

"Of course not. She's certified. Anti-Fairies can't graduate from the Fairy Academy." He sighed. "Her name is Holly Applespark. She runs a therapy business on Plane 7. I'll get in contact with her. Please prepare yourself accordingly."

My face stung. I accepted the note, but when Ambrosine left to find the High Countess and accept due payment for his services, I sneered at it with my fangs bared. "I don't need another Fairy therapist," I grumbled, breaking the bark to splinters in my hands. I let them tumble to the floor. "I'm certain she'll only tell me the same things as you all over again."

Why… You know what? After that encounter, I decided to put away my frozen sperm and egg project for a time, and treat myself to a pleasant morning of cooling off in the special bathing chamber on the observatory side of the courtyard. The massive door wasn't locked. I didn't even need to ensure any automatic torches were properly supplied with cloth, because rather than use those, the roof of the bathing chamber was exposed to the sky. Rosy light bled down into the room. The entire room was lined with sleek black stone, every corner rounded to form a soft curve. Decorative rock walls and several luminescent red-brown plants in enormous ceramic pots ringed the in-ground bath, balancing the Water energy in the room with Soil. The pool itself lapped at my toes, shallow at this end before deepening on the other side, far away.

No one else was in there. The comforting scent of sterile chemicals permeated the entire area. I shed the ragged clothing I'd worn for three days straight now and allowed myself to slip beneath the cool water. Well, it was more of a graceless flop than a dignified dive, but you know what I mean.

For a few moments, I paddled around the pool just mumbling my insecurities aloud and finding comfort in that, until the door opened. Anti-Bryndin stopped where he floated when he saw me, and pointed his claw at the door. "Out, Julius."

"But I'm taking a flea dip," I whined, sinking into the bubbles.

Anti-Bryndin waved his wand to pull the plug for the entire pool. Water began to drain away. "Yes, and now Shamaiin is coming here. I must have the tub washed of all pesticides and refilled with nice water in case he decides we will preen. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count…" Regardless, I sulked my way to the water's edge. "I notice, however, that Shamaiin seems to be coming over an awful lot these days."

"And he is powerful and must be kept happy and not dead. Go now."

I heaved myself from the pool, threw on my bathrobe without bothering to fit my wings through the slits, and stormed out grumbling. Frankly, I wasn't concerned with the puddles of water I tracked all the way back to the upper juvenile roosting room.

New plan, then. I towelled off, dressed, and flew off to pay a visit to the library in Luna's Landing. I figured I may as well pick something thick that would keep me absorbed until the Purple Robe had left. I wondered if Shamaiin had brought any of his drones along this time, or come alone, and if he planned to stay for supper. The entire camarilla would be dining with him in their front dining room if so. Was it custom for his drones to remain with him, or would they eat with us? And what was their perspective on their gyne's frequent calls to the Blue Castle these days?

With drones on the brain, I searched the library for texts related to Fairy culture, and narrowed that down to gyne and drone relationships. I grabbed three scrolls, one of them bound in at least three ribbons. The librarian on duty saw me floating away from the shelf. She pointed to the smallest scroll in my hand.

"Do be careful with that one. It's the only copy our library has."

I looked down at the scroll with the three ribbons. "Really? That surprises me."

She shrugged. "As I recall, it's the transcript of an interview with a drake about his life and relationship experiences as a drone. The Fairies tried to prevent copies from spreading to our hands, but as you can see, one managed to reach us anyway."

"Really…" My attention shifted to the other scrolls in my hand. "Are these all the texts about drones you have here?"

"I think so," she said, studying the shelf. She placed a bit of her hair against her lips. "Hmm. I believe so, yes. We generally try to keep the things about Fairy culture all in one place."

I scratched behind my neck. "Do you happen to know if you have anything that discusses  _divus_  displacement disorder?"

She frowned, pressing out her lips in thought. Her foot patted the air. "I don't think I've heard of that one, but anything about disorders should be in the psychology section."

"Well, yes, but…" I clenched my hand. "I've looked. On many occasions.  _Divus_  displacement disorder is said to be a condition that causes an Anti-Fairy to exhibit traits more commonly associated with drones. Specifically, the stereotype that drones experience highly fluctuating moods and become unpredictable and dangerous when deprived of pheromones. Do you know anything about that?"

"Those poor souls. I can't even imagine." The librarian looked thoughtful, then told me she might be able to find something for me if I didn't mind waiting around. I thanked her and took a roost beneath an array modeled after a cherry tree nearby. I tucked my other two scrolls onto a shelf platform dangling beside me and unravelled the one with triple ribbons.

 _An interview with Cosmo Waterberry, conducted by Anti-Willow Anti-Starstep._ Both their signatures were present at the top along with the date to confirm the legitimacy of the contents. Oh. Of course. The interview they'd done just before the  _Waterberry v. Reddinski_  case decision was made in Fairy Court- the one I'd skipped out on going to in order to attend the Ilisa Maddington lecture with Mickey. My intent had been to seize the transcript as soon as it reached Anti-Fairy World, but with all the busyness in my life, I suppose it slipped my mind. That happens even to Anti-Fairies, you know. Hmm… I skimmed through the greeting exchanges, pausing a few paragraphs down.

_A.W. - Cosmo, the Anti-Fairies I grew up with were all kabouters. We don't have drones in our society, so we're a bit out of the loop here. Could you briefly outline what being a drone means to you, in your experience, in terms an Anti-Fairy who didn't grow up with this culture can understand?_

_C - I can try. To be a drone is to live by your honor code every single day, even when it seems difficult. You always give 110% in all the work you do. You're obedient, helpful, and supportive. You're the keystone that holds the lives of your loved ones together, allowing you all to function as a powerful family unit. To be a drone is to detect the pressure changes in the energy field that allow you to sync with a group and move as a swarm without bumping into each other. To be a drone is to feel fulfilled, and to understand that you have a right to that fulfillment regularly._

_A.W. - It sounds like you enjoy being a drone. Had you been given the choice, would you still choose to be one?_

_C - I would. I think the labels and the rules about what drones aren't legally permitted to do… Those barriers, I would like to remove from society. But I would not change who I am, no._

_A.W. - Even though people say drones' perceptions are limited?_

_C - I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything, and I don't believe that drones are inherently less intelligent or less deserving of respect than anyone else. I'm happy the way I am._

Happy the way he was? I read that section twice, my brow furrowing. Hmph. Cruel Fairy culture had poisoned the poor lad's head, that was certain. He couldn't even see how oppressive his society was.

_A.W. - How would you describe your relationship with Jack Waterberry?_

_C - We trust each other 100%. His faith in me never wavers. He always keeps me informed about his activities and always allows me to accompany him anywhere if I choose to. I would say communication is the most crucial aspect of a gyne/drone partnership, and the constant, open communication Jack and I have is why we work so well together._

As if a gyne would allow a drone to speak up and express his true feelings. Gynes are abusive. Well, except Mickey… No, Mickey was a special case. I'm referring to  _other_  gynes.

_A.W. - How would you describe preening with Jack Waterberry?_

_C - Jack always thinks of something I did that day that he can compliment me on when we're together. I'm pleased that he always treats me as the alpha retinue drone, always preening me before he preens the others. That's important to me, in that he recognizes that me being his alpha is a two-way path, and he doesn't go behind my back to preen one of the others. Being the alpha is important to me, in the same way being creche father or colony queen might be important in your culture. It would be disrespectful to ignore that rank distinction. Jack is very dedicated to me and I appreciate that about him._

Respectful… Dedicated… Complimentary…

_A.W. - You can do better than that. Give me the juicy details! Where do you usually do the deed and what's going on around you when it happens?_

_C - With all respect, dame, I don't think that's appropriate._

_A.W. - Aha, I'm sorry. I'm just so curious! Remember, we Anti-Fairies don't have a good point of reference for this._

_C - Well. Preening is different with every gyne. My first gyne was strictly business in a way that made him difficult to connect to. He was a virgin and still learning the trade, I guess. We always preened at the same time of day, in the same way, standing in the middle of the kitchen before breakfast after we'd changed into our clothes for the day. We didn't even share a bed at night, even though I was his alpha drone and he wasn't married…_

_My second gyne was looser, and we would sort of do it whenever it felt right in whatever we were wearing at the time. I suppose we did it most in the mornings, still in our pajamas when we woke up, but it would happen anytime we felt like it. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it, but I met him in a club when he offered to buy me a few drinks and candy bars. We got to talking, and actually had our first preening session, you could call it, in the middle of the crowd as the band Rocketshock played "Bar of Shooting Stars" at full volume. I went home with him that night and stayed with him until he died. We didn't preen every day, but when we did, it was always highly passionate, even though I was one of four drones and wasn't even his alpha retinue. He knew how to make us all feel we were valued._

_Jack and I always preen first thing after dinner, in his bed with our day clothes on. I suppose another drone might argue that the experience isn't as passionate as what I had with my second gyne, but I don't think fiery passion is everything. I enjoy the calmness of it. He's everything I'm looking for right now. I don't regret any of my previous gyne choices, because they're all part of the learning process, but I'm very happy with Jack. That's all I feel comfortable revealing._

My face simmered. How deeply ingrained  _was_  all this drone brainwashing in Fairy culture? I read on, with mounting frustration.

_A.W. - There we go! That's very informative and leaves just enough to the imagination for me to have fun with it, hee hee. How would you describe what it's like to be without a gyne's pheromones?_

_C - Oh, dust. It feels like queasiness. You can feel it coming on, when the pheromones start to wear off. It feels like being stranded on an isolated planet without a wand and with no hope of rescue, having only a single glass of water in your hand. It feels like staring at the glass and seeing only_ [a centimetre]  _of water left inside, and your throat is incredibly dry. It feels like being stranded for weeks and having to gulp your last drops of water down in order to survive, knowing it's impossible to refill your supply until you reach some sort of outpost. You don't know where you are. You don't know how far away the nearest outpost is. You don't know if you're even going in the right direction. Every passing second is agony, not just from lacking water, but from not knowing how much longer you're going to be feeling that way before you're rescued. If you even are rescued. You might not be. Seeing your gyne come home after you've been deprived feels like watching a mounted knight crest a hill with an entire tank of deliciously cold ice water in tow. It's a refreshing energy boost and really soothes your anxiety._

 _Wait a minute,_ I thought. My fingers clenched the scroll.  _That's ME! That's exactly how I feel every day of my life!_

I stared at Cosmo's depiction of the dry planet for a moment, then shook my head. Brainwashed… influenced by Fairy propaganda… Drones are cruelly abused by Fairies bigger and stronger than they, and they're not really happy living their submissive little lives. They can't be. I mean, they just  _can't_  be! It's  _wrong!_

I dove on.

_A.W. - How well do you think you could get by without the influence of a gyne?_

_C - If I really pushed myself, I think I could last 2-3 full days before my anxiety became overwhelming. If I were at home and he didn't show for days, I'd search the house for Jack's things… probably crawl into his bed for comfort and not get out until I was starving. After a few days of moping around, I'd have to leave and seek out a new gyne. As deeply as I care for Jack and would wish for his return, I wouldn't want to force myself to live in a state of stress and pain if I didn't need to._

Seek out a new… But no. Why wouldn't you just… make your own way? Drones don't need gynes… It's propaganda… a cruel tradition of prettying up slavery in a nicey-nice facade…

_A.W. - It's my understanding that kabouters give off pheromones too, even if they aren't as powerful as a gyne's. How do you feel about preening with a kabouter?_

_C - Let me put it this way. How would you feel if all your friends were able to feast on all the fruit, meat, vegetables, and bread they wanted every single night, and the only meal you could ever eat, once or twice a day, every single day for weeks and then months on end, was a small handful of sugary candy? It might be exciting and enjoyable for awhile, but it wouldn't fulfill you._

_Oh my smoke, that's_ _ **me!**_ _That's exactly how it feels when I come home from school for holiday! Restless and eager to return to Fairy World!_  My thoughts flashed back to my self-assigned seating arrangements in class. I hadn't really noticed, but now that I thought about it… Didn't I have a tendency to sit as close to Binky Abdul as I could? I mean, he took good notes and it's very easy to sneak glances at his paper, so that's why I stay near him… and wait for him outside the washroom… and follow him wherever he goes for lunch that day… and write his name over and over in the margins of my scrolls… and snuggle in his lap at game night just to inhale the scent of bananas and toffee off his shirt… Oh my gods.

I pressed a knuckle to my teeth, flattening my ears. But- that's different! Gyne/drone relationships are abusive! My relationship with Binky is  _different_. It's barely worth mentioning- not more than I mention any other casual relationship up on school grounds. We're just friends! Stupidly amazing really good friends…

… Is that what it's  _like?_

The interview went on in that manner, with Anti-Willow asking Cosmo increasingly intimate questions about the nature of his relationship with Jack Waterberry, until finally Cosmo retorted,  _You Anti-Fairies always want to talk about sex, don't you?_

 _Well,_  she replied,  _you have to admit that such an intimate relationship without any sex or sexual desire at all is an absolutely fascinating concept. To us, it's unthinkable that two unrelated individuals of a mature age who aren't of incompatible zodiacs could become so close without going all the way at least once to know what that intimate experience would be like between the two of them. I believe I've had thirty-six long-term compatible relationships in my lifetime, and I can't imagine keeping them all thriving for long without having made that connection. It wouldn't feel like a true friendship unless I understood my friends at their most trusting, and if it wasn't offered by someone with an earlier zodiac or if I was rejected by someone with a later zodiac, I'd probably wonder what I did to offend everyone, or why they were being so closed-off with me._

 _We come from very different cultures_ , was Cosmo's calm response.

… We do, don't we?

_A.W. - Do you have any closing thoughts about what the intimacy of preening means to you?_

_C - To me, the entire experience is one of intimacy and desire. I do not engage in sexual relations with Jack, and he does not engage in preening with his wife. I don't think Butterwing believes Jack is withholding intimacy from her any more than I think he's withholding it from me. We desire different pleasures. When I preen with Jack, I can feel without any doubt that he wants me as much as I want him. I imagine the same is true when it comes to having relations with his wife. So, I don't believe that the intimacy involved in preening is inferior to the intimacy involved in a romantic or sexual relationship. I believe any experience that two partners consider intimate is just as important as any other intimate relationship two people can have._

… No wonder the Fairies hadn't wanted Anti-Willow to distribute this publicly. Not only did it feature a drone's humble perspective, but an Anti-Fairy's as well. And most especially, they acted as though they didn't mind being in one another's presence and holding a casual conversation, even when their cultural viewpoints clashed. This interview transcript depicted Seelie and Unseelie Courters as people able to respectfully get along.

I read it twice over to ensure I committed it perfectly to memory, then sighed and rolled it up again. Cosmo Waterberry's perspective was interesting, but I didn't even know how I felt about it. After all, I went for weeks, months, years, and centuries without being exposed to gyne pheromones, and look at how well I was holding up! I couldn't even imagine living a drone's life, kissing up on a constant basis, subject to switching partners on a whim. Why, even when I'd met gynes face to face, I wasn't normally one to forget my life and my needs and throw myself completely at their feet- or their necks. Because… that's how drones react, isn't it? I mean, that's the stereotype…

Cosmo Waterberry might seem content with his lot in life, but I didn't want to be some homemaker, or some nanny raising someone else's seven offspring while my children were left alone. I wanted a more equal marriage side by side with Mona, raising pups of my very own. All right. So perhaps I did have a few slight ups and downs in my moods every now and again. That didn't mean Ambrosine's five-second diagnosis of me when I was eight years old was necessarily accurate. He barely knew me, even now. He didn't get to determine my destiny.

I read the other scrolls, which contained nothing worth noting, then returned them all to the front desk and asked the librarian, "Did you find anything about  _divus_  displacement disorder, perchance?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I scryed every library in Anti-Fairy World, but no one could tell me anything about it."

"I see. Thank you very much for your time."

"Sorry. I'm glad I could try to help, but frankly, I don't believe it's even a real thing."

Sigh. As I was leaving the library, I noticed a scroll pinned to the public message board by the door, calling for Anti-Fairies interested in 'Tearing down gynedom' and 'Setting drones free' to rally at the border with picket signs and loud voices in seven days' time. I gazed at it for a moment, then turned away. Free from what? From abusive gynes, absolutely, but… Were all gynes abusive? Mickey wasn't. Binky wasn't. Shamaiin wasn't. Mr. Whimsifinado… I wasn't sure. In any case, maybe it was time we followed Anti-Willow's lead and actually bothered to ask drones what they wanted, instead of just assuming we Anti-Fairies understood Fairy culture better than the Fairies did. What sort of hypocrites would it make us if we yelled for them to end their gyne/drone practices, yet hissed angrily whenever they yelled at us to end our sociosexual ones?

_We come from very different cultures…_

Abusing others was immoral. That, I still firmly believed. But if gynes and drones mutually consented to and enjoyed the intimacies of their preening relationships, and it wasn't doing anyone any harm… What was wrong with that?

It must be nice, you know. Being a gyne. You have people falling at your feet day in and day out for the chance to praise and pleasure you, and gynes don't have to suffer the unpleasantries of pheromone deprivation the way drones do. Even if Future Me desires the gyne and drone lifestyle, I will never be allowed to taste it, because I was born an Anti-Fairy. Old Mr. Thimble's sneering commentary constantly rains on my ears:  _I wouldn't accept an Anti-Fairy if he were the High Count himself._  Why, even when I preened with Mickey, I took initiative to clip my facial fur back to my scales… Even then, he'd insisted I do most of the pleasuring him, and he hardly glanced his tongue across my face in an attempt to pleasure me…

Briefly, I entertained the idea of approaching Binky with the humble request to preen much as Mickey and I had those few thousand years ago, only this time I intended to be more vocal regarding my own wants and needs. But I dashed that possibility in an instant. I didn't feel comfortable enough to ask that of Binky yet. I hadn't even told him of my alleged disorder. Besides… relationships between Fairies and Anti-Fairies were so illegal, even our innocent friendships were scorned. And should he reject me, I don't think my fragile mind would handle that well at all.

Sigh. I suppose all I really wanted was to become close friends with a gyne willing to preen with me from time to time. Someone willing to adapt to my comfort level, and who understood that we could only preen on rare occasion when I could slip across the border. Perhaps that would make me happy then.

I was back at work the following day. I'd hoped to visit Lohai, but Juandissimo informed me she was still under quarantine. The cherubs wouldn't even let me near her.

"How is he after the in-vitro?" I asked instead. Juandissimo knew at once who I was talking about. He sucked on his lower lip and held his clipboard to his chest.

"Not good, señor."

Poor bloke.

I sought out Asher with the intent of resigning on the spot if he sent me to record pixie behaviour again. I told him plain and simply that I was interested in doing ethograms for a different species now. When he asked what I had in mind, my response was instantaneous.

"Why, genies, of course."

Asher rubbed one finger against his chin. "That might could be arranged… I think Drk. Ludell suggested we assure ourselves of Vesuvius' fertility before we pair him up with Lohai when she comes of age."

I frowned. "Vesuvius… He's your indigo-tail? Er, isn't he a mite…  _old_  for Lohai?" As I recalled, he could have been her father and then some.

"He's all we have," Asher said simply. "Genies aren't easy to find." He studied me for a moment, then turned and motioned for me to follow him along the corridor. "It was a lucky coincidence you managed to find yours."

"I'd call it fate, actually."

So, I was tasked to monitor genie behaviour. To my surprise, genies turned out to be quite… uninspiring to observe. I waited days, then weeks, impatiently recording the same letters over and over again on my ethogram sheet:  _HB. HB. HB._  Hibernating. Hibernating. Hibernating.

Once, when I was certain no one would notice me, I rapped my knuckles on the glass separating me from the two sleeping genies.  _Wake up,_  I wanted to howl. But of course, it was no use. Genies spend most of their lives resting, sleeping off the natural poisons in their native diet. Their spirits are strong, but their bodies are weak. Energy conservation is a way of life.

I refused to stand by helplessly and watch the cherubs torment Mr. Whimsifinado for science's sake, so I grit my teeth and filled my genie sheets without complaint.  _HB. HB. HB._  The same two letters printed every ten seconds on the second, hour after hour, scroll upon scroll upon scroll. Every day I presented it to Asher, and every day he scrutinized it with agonizingly slow care, and occasionally insulted my pride by asking if I was "Sure." Privately, I think Dm. Venus told him to bore me half to smoke in the hopes I'd up and snap. Ha. He didn't know who he was dealing with. I could swallow my pride and bide my time.

It was five months before Vesuvius and Krakatoa finally awoke, and four more spent toying with their enclosure's temperature before Drk. Cupid, Drk. Lucius, and Drk. Apuleius came to find me scribbling notes in the breakroom, and subsequently requested I follow them to the Eros Nest control room.

"The what?" I asked, scarcely believing my ears. Drk. Apuleius rolled his eyes.

"The control room? Where the Triplet on duty actually does his or her work?"

I lowered my quill between the pages of my diary. "Dm. Charite wants me there? Right now?"

Drk. Cupid shrugged. "I guess. I mean, if you want to see the genies breed."

"The control room," I repeated. My hand went to my chest. "I… don't know what to say. I never believed in a hundred thousand years that I'd have the privilege to one day stand in the Eros Nest's control room."

Drk. Lucius cocked his head to one side. "Can you be flattered on the way? Dm. Charite said to make sure you aren't late."

"Yes, yes of course…"

The control room turned out to be very dark and octagon-shaped, with each of its many walls absolutely covered in… I don't know what they're called. Flat, glowing, moving pictures of sexually rendezvousing people and creatures which changed to a different pair every few seconds.

"Screens," Dm. Charite told me gently when I pointed at one and asked. "They're magical monitors that cycle through acts of copulation for species all across the universe. It's the job of the Triplet on duty to fire arrows through the screens to monitor vital signs, and we have to make snap judgements on which couples will fertilize."

"How do you do that?"

"Aengus, the ancient god of love among the Tuatha dé Danann, insisted on a random element when he bestowed his powers over love upon the Eros family line. The randomness is crucial. If we purposefully attempt to incite feelings of affection in a couple, our powers won't work. At least not for long." Dm. Charite notched another arrow in her bow and let it fly into a screen that depicted a pair of gnomes. It melted upon impact, passing harmlessly through the screen. "Some of our monitoring arrows are tipped with our approval magic. The rest with a placebo that gives off the same magical pulse in the energy field. We can't detect the difference between them, so we never know."

I gazed around the control room in wonder, turning a full circle before staring at her quizzically again. "And you have to watch  _all_  of these?"

Dm. Charite shook her head and fired another arrow into a screen depicting two Boudacians tangled in one another's arms. She whipped a new arrow from her quiver just as fast and moved to the next screen. "Not in the pocket dimensions in the Negaverse on Plane 16. And we only work with mammals, not birds or fish. They have a special tracking system for their eggs. And we don't track anything that doesn't have the potential to lead to fertilization."

"… Like Anti-Fairy lovemaking. Outside the honey-lock, I mean. You don't bless it."

"Yes, exactly! Takes a load off my shoulders. Only fertilization is important. Sex that can't result in procreation is a foolish waste of time and energy. You studied the pixie gyne, right? He's a good example. He can't fertilize his eggs. Won't ever show on-screen in his life."

I said nothing. My grip on my notescroll tightened until my knuckles turned purple. I… respectfully disagreed with her unsourced opinion.

Dm. Charite directed me towards the sofa, where she said the screen directly across from me would show me the Nest's two genies, Vesuvius and Krakatoa, pairing up for the first time in decades. "Asher will be doing the courtship ethograms up close. You're our future genie conservationist. I want you to relax and take notes at your own pace. Besides, you're more fun to talk to than that stuffy grey-winged busybody any day." She chuckled and let another arrow fly. "Ah, don't tell him I said that."

 _Genie conservationist._  I rather liked the sound of that. Imagine: An Anti-Fairy with a respectable job title, the war and Barrier notwithstanding.

I settled on the sofa, placing my scroll on the table between a crystal ball and the box of dry snacks I'd brought. On the large screen before me, Vesuvius had begun courting Krakatoa among the red rocks and yellow grass in their enclosure, which she responded to by rubbing the underside of his chin with her head. I propped my hand against my cheek, aware that I ought to be taking notes but reluctant to look away.

After a moment spent nuzzling and coiling tighter, Vesuvius wound his indigo tail around hers and constricted very tight. Krakatoa gasped, or maybe mewled, though the image remained silent. Dm. Charite released an arrow just over my head.  _Twang!_  It passed straight through the screen with a ripple and buried itself in Krakatoa's tail. Although I could plainly make out its white shaft and pink feathers, neither genie acknowledged its presence. After several seconds, the arrow on the screen dissolved. It dropped in a bin at my feet with a clatter. Sticky, glowing embers glistened like lava on its tip. A small cherub with yellow hair dashed forward, snatched it up, and scurried off with it.

"What do your assistants here do?" I asked Dm. Charite, reaching for my ink bottle.

"They gather the arrows in the next room over and document parents, hormone levels, and warning signs for our files."

"You only shot one arrow."

"I usually shoot the damsels of every species since they have the wombs. I shoot Fairy drakes."

Several minutes passed, while Vesuvius ran his hands along Krakatoa's shoulders and murmured in her ear. I tapped my wand against my knee. "Do you think they'll have a litter?"

"Maybe."

I glanced back at her as she paused very briefly to fix her high pegasustail. "I thought we adjusted the heat levels in their enclosure to induce Krakatoa's fertility."

"That was just to get them to show up on my screen." She launched another arrow at a crockeroo couple on-screen across the room. "I'd have to randomly use a fertility arrow on them, and I won't know if I did until I have time to read the reports after Ludell starts his shift for the evening."

"And you can't guarantee the arrow you're using prior to using it?"

"There are a few tricks to make educated guesses, but generally, it has to be random or Aengus' blessing won't work."

I tilted my head. "When will they be finished?"

"Genies?" Dm. Charite smiled. "Not for hours. Once they entwine around anything tightly enough, the muscles in their tails lock and you couldn't pry them apart with a trident. They're ancient creatures brimming with all the powers of rule-free magic, and the doe spends five years pregnant. It's going to take awhile."

"I know… But this waiting game certainly makes one anxious, doesn't it?"

Dm. Charite had hardly paused from yanking arrows out of her quiver and firing them at every couple on every screen. As she set yet another against her bowstring, she nodded in my direction. "You'll know they're done when his coils loosen from around her."

"Not the first time, though, I've read?"

She shook her head without breaking eye contact from her next targets. Her tongue flicked out to dab across her lips. "The couple will relax a bit in the middle, but in reality the breeding process isn't finished. They're only resting."

I rubbed my lip with my knuckle. "Genies don't have heat cycles the way you Fairies do, so the first breed triggers ovulation. In the proper environment, her eggs will drop, and an hour or so after that, they'll rebreed. The second mating is the one that ensures pregnancy, or at least a larger litter."

"Oh… You've done a lot of research, I see."

"I mean no offense, Dm. Charite," I told her truthfully. Her voice wasn't disappointed, per se, but it carried a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of explaining what I already knew. I twitched my ears. "Please continue. Genies are a fascination of mine, after all, and I'm very interested in hearing their behaviors from the perspective of an Eros Triplet. You said they're nigh impossible to pry off anything they've coiled their tails around. I've read they used to get themselves tangled and promptly killed in the wild by catching on tree branches."

"Silly creatures," she said affectionately. "You can see why they particularly needed their rule-free magic to defend themselves from predators and the elements on their native planet long ago. If you take a close look at that screen in front of you, you'll notice our genies retreated to the warm corner of their enclosure sheltered behind the taller rocks. They have no predators here, but the instinct to conceal themselves remains. You know as well as I do that teleportation is impossible when-"

"Yes, I know that part," I interrupted, fighting the flush in my face.

Dm. Charite chuckled when I lost my desperate battle. She rustled her wings into place and drew another arrow from her quiver.  _Twang! Thwick!_ "The first breeding is mainly physical and drains their energy. The second breed is more magical and helps restore it. If they don't finish the whole act properly, they physically won't have the strength to release and untangle. To be frank, Genies are classified under the term 'elemental snakes' for a good reason. They're constrictors. Even when their free population was at its peak generations ago, surviving adults were always rare. It's beneficial for them to catch and hold a mate in place for a lengthy time to ensure procreation is successful."

"Hmm." I tapped a claw against my fangs. "Yes, I understand that completely. We anti-fairies undergo our honey-lock when locked-breeding occurs. So I suppose it's the same idea as the genies have, only our lock is psychological as opposed to a physical one. We Anti-Fairies, once taken in passion by the honey-lock, literally lose our trepidations and any desire to disengage… or so I've heard."

"Something like that." Dm. Charite glanced over at me and smiled. "We Fairies have separate organs spaced around our forehead chambers, all of which serve different purposes. An anti-fairy like you has only a single organ in there that, for simple reasons, we still refer to as your core. In reality, your cores, brains, egg nests, and the upper portions of your respiratory systems are inseparably woven into a single mass. When your counterparts mate, the effects ripple from their cores into yours, though it takes three months for them to hit you." The bow went back to her shoulder, eyes back to the screen. "With your third of your shared core in direct contact with your other organs, every one of your body systems reacts to the ripple. Your counterpart being in such intimate contact with another Fairy triggers your body to seek the match out. Your mate-seeking behavior goes on, your fertile colours flare up. And, since your brain assumes that you're in the presence of a fertile female, and since anti-fairies are fertile for only a few hours at a time, your body floods you with an overabundance of hormones to put you in the mood."

 _With all due respect, dame,_ I thought _, I believe in the theory of separate cores that linked up following a mental bond, not split ones broken off a single source._ But all I said was, "Ooh, that  _is_  interesting!"

"It is. Or at least, I think it is. Have you ever personally witnessed a honey-lock couple before?"

"A few times," I said, my eyes on Vesuvius and Krakatoa patiently making gentle love. I reached for my box of snacks. "I come from a fairly large colony."

"You may or may not know this, but Fairies have the most sensitive noses among the Fairykind, allowing them to have the most sensitive tongues as well. They smell and taste attraction signals in the energy field the same way your people hear vocal signatures. Honey-locked Anti-Fairies, quite frankly, stink, and Fairies recoil at the smell and steer clear."

I turned, slipping dry cereal mix into my mouth one square at a time. "Do we?"

"Mmhm." She released another arrow. "The gland that releases the chemicals to change the colour of your fur also releases thiols into the air to keep predators away, and in the hopes of warning off your competition."

Frowning, I rubbed around my blind eye. "How do you mean competition? They're locked, aren't they? Who can compete with that?"

Dm. Charite risked another glance at me, her brow furrowing up. "You don't know?"

"I'm afraid I'm not sure I'm clear as to what you are implying."

"Anti-Fairy fertility. As soon as the honey-lock takes hold of you and alters the colour of your fur, you're fully fertile. Capable of breeding successfully with any fertile Anti-Fairy of the appropriate sex. Don't you guys know this?"

Capable… of breeding… with any… fertile…

I stared at her, my mouth half-parted. The rest of my cereal bits trickled through my fingers and into my lap. It couldn't be. It  _couldn't_  be. I sat up on my knees, clenching the back of the sofa with my claws. "H-how do you mean 'breeding successfully'?"

Dm. Charite lowered her bow. She stared at the nearest screen for three seconds. Then she turned around. "You do know that when you Anti-Fairies are fertile, you can literally have pups with any other fertile Anti-Fairy, right? You're drawn to your honey-lock partner by instinct, but if you stumble across another honey-locked and fertile anti-fairy of the appropriate sex along the way and decide to breed with her instead, you're fertile and you can successfully produce a kid. This is like, basic Fairykind biology. I learned this when I was a thousand. You know this, right?"

"… Uh…"

"You're yanking my lines." Dm. Charite turned back to her work with a disbelieving shake of her head. "What are they teaching you in school these days?"

_You can fight the honey-lock…_

"That's not in my research," I said quietly. My palms pressed over my ears. "I thought Fairies had to have their babies before we could have ours. Why, I was taught since birth that Fairy nymphs are born with the full magic pool that would normally be shared between all three counterparts- that's what makes baby magic so pure and powerful. Fairy nymphs gather energy from such a full pool over the next few months. But left much longer than that, they will slowly die. Drowning, in a sense, in their own magic. That's why they need Unseelie counterparts. We Anti-Fairies stake a share of that magic pool for ourselves. The Refracted take another. We divide our shared magic and balance one another, preventing that smothering death. But if an Anti-Fairy was born without a host… they would never have a magic pool to begin with, would they? They wouldn't drown in it, but they couldn't breathe, either." I shivered at the memory of Dm. Venus driving her thumbnail into my windpipe. That alone had knocked me gasping to the floor.

Brief silence fell between us, accented with the sound of Dm. Charite loading and releasing her bow, and her assistants gathering arrows as they dropped into bins. Then she said, "Julius, consider two Fairykind. Any of the three genera you want; it doesn't matter which you pick, as long as both belong to the same one. Imagine two of them. They are fertile. They meet. They breed. They conceive. They bear a child. A new child of the Fairykind. Julius, can you imagine it? Can you imagine what happens that night to the parents of its future counterparts?"

A rock settled in my stomach. My ears folded back. "No… You don't mean what I think you mean."

"Yes. Its parents' counterparts honey-lock the same night the hosting child is born. The new pup-"

 _"Stop it!"_  I pinned my ears down once more, squeezing them with my claws and screwing up my eyelids. Whatever I'd imagined after all my decades of research, it wasn't this. Anything but  _this._  "For smoke's sake, don't say it! It's not true!"

But she didn't have to. I was not a stupid child. I knew where this conversation had been going. After a few seconds, I raised my head again. Dm. Charite had her back to me, quietly engaged in her work.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you and I shouldn't have said anything. Living at the Eros Nest just gets you in the habit of answering questions honestly. My shift will be over within the hour, so perhaps I could buy you lunch in apology."

"It's not true," I protested, blinking rapidly to keep the wetness out of my eyes. "For Rhoswen's sake, Dm. Charite- Tell me it's not true. The Fairies wouldn't keep that information a secret. They don't hate us that much!"

Dm. Charite shrugged her wings. "Three counterparts, Julius. Three  _equal_ counterparts, all born from the Aos Sí. Didn't you ever wonder?"

No.

No, no, no… Splitting is a Daoist myth. The Zodii know it isn't true. Evolution is the way it happened. Daoism can't be true, because  _I am Ilisa bloody Maddington reborn_ , and I  _know_  reincarnation is real. We can't  _both_  be right!

"B-but…" I flung my arms out to either side, still balanced on my knees on the sofa. "Anti-Fairies can't give birth to hosting counterparts! Fairies are the Seelie Court. The  _only_ race counted as members of the Seelie Court. They're the dominant ones, always our hosts, and we as Unseelie exist only to balance them! We're submissive! We don't get to be hosting counterparts!"

"Why?"

"Because they… they told us this is how things are. Oh my gods. Oh my gods- Bloody Darkness, I need to sit down." I did, falling back on the sofa with a flop, my eyes riveted on a screen just a bit to my left. Curiously, it showed no couple engaged in any sort of intimate act. This one merely showed the corridor just outside the control room, with the Eros Archives door centered plainly. My chest heaved. My words choked. "Dm. Charite, are you serious? Fairies really can honey-lock too, in response to us producing fertile children? I mean, only if we Anti-Fairies should have our fertility switched on to start with, at least until we breed a generation of hosting counterparts, I suspect, but- By smoke, it makes so much  _sense!_  Why did I never think of this before? You really aren't yanking my wing now? We Anti-Fairies can actually be born as hosts under the proper circumstances and receive everything that goes with it?"

"Everything that goes with it," Dm. Charite confirmed, but her voice was hollow. Another arrow flew past my head. "Regardless of species, the hosting counterpart has direct connection to the energy field through your magic breathing lines. A hosting core. Separate organs in their forehead chamber. Regular heat cycles. The capability of breeding with any other hosting Anti-Fairy of the appropriate sex. The inability to regenerate if they're killed."

I briefly entertained the thought of permanent death, then shook my head and finally released my ears. Anti-Fairies as hosting counterparts. Can you just imagine it? Anti-Fairies!

And… and it's all within my grasp. If I could simply orchestrate Fairy-Cosmo and Qalupalik-Saffron to breed simultaneously with other Fairies - anyone, even if it wasn't one another - then Mona and I would come into our fertility at the same time, and once we shook off the command of the honey-lock, we could finally conceive a legitimate…

I didn't even need Ilisa's sperm and Juandissimo's eggs at all!

"They didn't teach me this in school," I said, scrubbing my burning tears away. "I've spent my whole life engaged in reproductive research, you know, ever since I was eight years old. I never found any mention of it. I don't think Anti-Fairies even know. Perhaps even Fairies don't, beyond Triplets like you and your cherubs. Of course your parents would pass that information down, even if society shushed it from the rest of us."

At that, Dm. Charite scoffed. "Well, then past generations wanted you all to be good little counterparts and not try to fight the honey-lock."

Before I could say anything else, an enormous shriek outside the control room door wrecked the halls: _"FERGUS WHIMSIFINADO!"_

Dm. Charite faltered. Her arrow missed its mark. In sync, we turned to the control room door. "Was that Venus?" she asked. "She doesn't usually scream loud enough to be heard from  _here."_

"Ow," I said a few seconds later, touching two fingertips to one ear. The drums smarted with pain.

"Get Ludell," Dm. Charite ordered her assistants. "My shift's about to end. Venus may need me."

Cherubs scrambled. I stayed on the sofa, gazing at the screen to my left that depicted the Eros Archives door. Pixies and anti-pixies stood in the corridor, staring up at the massive entryway. All of them were small. Mr. Whimsifinado and Anti-Fergus were nowhere to be seen.

 _"Fergusius Whimsifinado!"_  Dm. Venus howled again. Dm. Charite and I exchanged a glance.

Drk. Ludell rushed into the room a moment later, his bow in hand and an arrow notched. "Go," he spat to Dm. Charite, and she didn't waste an instant. She raced from the control room. I unsheathed my wand and chased after her. As we flew wing to wing through the corridor, she glanced back at me.

"Julius, you'll just be in the way."

"Dame, I assure you, I'm nearly an adult and I can handle myself."

"In that case, I know where you'll be most useful. We had to move one of the anti-pixies to the solitary confinement corridor. Anti-Fergus won't leave without him. Head him off there."

"Got it." When she turned left, I veered to the right instead. I didn't even make it to the solitary confinement corridor before a large green figure seized my shoulders and slammed me to the wall.  _Crack_  went my head on solid cloudstone.

"Hand over your wand!"

"Wha-?" My eyes rolled about in my skull. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "Anti-Fergus, it's me! Julius! Anti-Robin's son!"

"Your wand!" The anti-pixie's eyes blazed crimson. "They've got Ennet captive, and I ain't leaving him behind. Give over your wand or I'll rip your tongue out here and now so you'll never kiss again, I swear! Yer pop would forgive me for this!"

"O-okay," I stuttered, feebly holding out my wand to him.

"Both of 'em! Yer your mum's son. I know you've got two!"

I unclipped the second from the back of my leg. He snatched both and tore off again, as quick as he had come.

… Well. As panic spread through the facility and cherubs filled the halls, I decided this was as good a time as any to find Juandissimo and grab something to eat for lunch, hm?


	23. Age-Old Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter parallels the "Origin of the Pixies" chapters "Playing With the Big Kids" and "What Karma Is."

  _In which we wrap up Julius' childhood over the course of many years_

* * *

In the end, Mr. Whimsifinado, Anti-Fergus, and their respective runaway pixies were detained. My wands were not returned to me that evening, nor the next, nor the next after that. Unless I wished to return to Anti-Fairy World without them, I was effectively grounded.

Juandissimo was kind enough to open his home to me, which was at least some comfort. He lived in a sort of… boarding house not far from the Eros Nest, where he introduced me first to a large, scowling drake with incredibly red hair and a face full of freckles (his step-father?) and then to his actual father: a thin, dark-eyed drake who always slumped a bit forward as though exhausted by the weight of existing. Jean and Luis Magnifico. I longed to question the bloke about the genie who had granted him his triple offspring, but Juandissimo's unspoken signals in the energy field warned against it. For once, I held my tongue.

"Julius Anti-Lunifly," I introduced myself that first evening, careful to make the Fairy greeting with my hands. "I work with Juandissimo at the Eros Nest."

"An anti-fairy?" Jean asked sceptically, sizing me up. I straightened my wings.

"Yes. The Triplets took a liking to me." Well… two of the three, anyway.

Jean's eyes flicked away from me. Instead, they locked on the fairy slipping down the corridor towards the kitchen. He cocked his head. "Luis? Where are you going?"

Luis paused, then turned back to face him. "I thought… I might begin supper, señor?"

"Your  _offspring_  is fully capable of doing that. You have a job to do." Jean pointed down the corridor he and Luis had emerged from. "Now, plant your tail end in that bed and stay there until we're finished."

Juandissimo flinched, although I think I was the only one who noticed.

 _"Sí,_  Señor Reddinski," Luis mumbled, and scurried off as instructed. Before following, Jean fixed his eyes on me again.

"You may stay here a few nights until you get your wand back, Julius. Luis' child will show you where you can sleep and which washroom you can use. He knows his way around. Don't pester me with questions he can easily answer. Blow out the candles before you fall sleep. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," I said, running mental calculations regarding his family name. Jean grunted and retreated back along the corridor. The door slammed shut. With a shudder, Juandissimo floated into the kitchen and began to pull food from the cupboards.

"Well," I said, hanging my coat by the door, "your parents seem, um… loving."

Juandissimo gave me a strange sideways look, clutching a can of tuna in one hand. "My parents?"

"Yes, they've raised a fine drake, so I'm certain there's a very… healthy relationship between them. It's good. They're good."

"Oh," he said, still looking confused.

Upon my return to work, Dm. Charite summoned me back to the control room. "The report on Vesuvius and Krakatoa," she said, handing me a piece of parchment. I glanced over it, reading the names of their relatives and the hormones that were of interest to the Eroses. When I reached the bottom of the paper, I was beside myself with glee. Two words were printed plainly there:  _Fertile arrow._

"Oh, smashing! So they'll have little candles, then?"

"Maybe." The same cryptic reply she'd given me earlier. "The arrow was fertile, as many are, but it's no guarantee Krakatoa's litter will survive to birth."

"But of course they will! I have faith in you, Dm. Charite." Still smiling at the report, I settled back on the sofa and began to copy some notes myself.

About two hours into my work, the crystal ball on the low table beside me began to swirl with grey mist. I blinked and looked at it. Then over my shoulder at Dm. Charite.

"Answer it, Julius," she said, obviously sensing the magic in the air even though she wasn't looking. She shot another arrow through a nearby screen. "Asher normally does it, but you're filling in for him. Only heads of state and Council members have the serial number to contact that ball, so it's sure to be important."

Er… All right, then. If that's what she wished of me. I set my quill aside and rubbed the crystal until the mists within it cleared up to reveal a drakian face with distinctly straight-cut, squarish features and a wide, rounded nose. I pricked up my ears. Mr. Whimsifinado? He no longer wore the ragged clothes I remembered from nine months ago. He dressed in a smooth grey suit, his large hat tugged low enough over his head that his cowlicks and fuzzy sideburns were the only part of his hair that I could see. He stared at me, blank-faced, then flipped his hands over so his palms faced the ceiling.

"Uh, what? Isn't this the Eros line?"

"Oh." Because I was an anti-fairy. I smoothed the front of my shirt. "So sorry. Yes, I'm running communication for the Triplets today. Can I help you?"

His eyelids lowered slightly, which turned his look of confusion quickly to a look of boredom and resignation. His fingers came together in a steeple beneath his chin. "This is the Head Pixie. May I speak to whichever Eros Triplet is awake and not performing their shift? Charite, right? It's important."

I paused. The term 'Head Pixie' didn't ring any bells, but I didn't have to ask to figure out that he must be the pixie race's equivalent of the High Count. I wondered if the cherubs had stripped him of his title while he stayed in the Nest, or if he'd only ascended to the position in the last few days. Then I wondered if Mister's father had been Head Pixie before him, and if the Eroses hadn't released him with the rest of the pixies. Perhaps he'd inherited the position by default…

In any case, I nodded and left to find Drk. Ludell. He was only a corridor over, giving his nephews a strict reprimand on confronting danger unsupervised, while they hung their heads. Drk. Cupid didn't look well. A blot of black had swollen on his neck, and traces of dark liquid ran across his skin in patterns like veins. He stood on the floor while his younger brothers remained airborne, staring at his feet and saying nothing. Not even 'Yes, sir.'

When I mentioned the name 'Head Pixie,' Drk. Ludell shot for the control room. The young triplets took one look at me and scrambled off in the other direction. That left me alone with a few moments to myself.

I wonder…

If I moved quickly, Dm. Charite wouldn't even notice that I'd gone. I reached automatically for my wand, only to find my sheath empty. Right. So I flew along the employee access corridors instead, until I reached the one behind the pixie enclosure. Not finding any sign of a breeding cabin, I flew to one of the lower metal platforms and searched for this mysterious drake from there. I turned up nothing. Not even their signature species identifier of rustling paper in the energy field.

Hmm.

That afternoon, Drk. Ludell returned the wands Anti-Fergus had stolen from me, and I was able to  _poof_  home at last. When I materialised outside the gate, I was assaulted at once by half a dozen voices and easily a dozen arms.

"Happy Winter Turn!" my crechemates cried, rubbing their heads against mine. My jaw fell open.

"What? Is that today? I… I'd hoped to join the decorating committee."

Mona giggled and motioned for Ashley to come forward. "Holiday havoc hardly hails yet. We realise it's traditional to keep presents below the trellis until after suppertime, but we just couldn't wait. You'll see."

My friends pressed close around me. Puzzled but intrigued, I removed the lid from the simple crate to reveal a small black animal with a dash of white across her chest. Two wispy Fairy wings fluttered at her shoulders. A golden crown floated between her ears. I gasped, hands flying to my mouth. The crate's lid thudded to the grass.

"A kitten!"

"Cat sith," clarified the cat sith, indicating her crown with her forepaw. She leapt from the box and landed on Anti-Kanin's shoulder, tail waving. At her firm clarification, my eyes flicked up and down her lanky form.

"Oh. Er… I'm terribly sorry. I didn't realise. I mean, with no offense intended, you  _are_  a bit small and short-haired for a traditional cat sith."

"I'll grow quite large with all the souls I'll devour before adulthood," she assured me, springing from Anti-Kanin's shoulder to mine.

"With all the what you what?" Harold asked, reeling back his head. "I thought that was a Daoist myth."

The cat sith laughed a purring laugh, flicking her tail back and forth. Her forepaw moved to the white patch on her chest. "Oh, it's merely a metaphor. Hello, Julius. My name is Jasmine. I'm a certified emotion-linker, and I'm here to be your soothing companion for as long as you should require my services. Dr. Applespark sent me to comfort you whenever you feel anxious. Hm! I'd like to see old Whimsifi-nada manage  _that."_  Between licks across the pink bean-shaped pads on the underside of her paw, she muttered, "The drugs he prescribes may be ethically sourced these days, but his worldviews certainly aren't, let me tell you."

"Uh…" Harold pointed a claw at Jasmine's crown, shuffling two steps backward. "Did anyone else hear her say she devours souls?"

"Only metaphorically," I said, pressing my clasped hands to my mouth. I couldn't hold back my delight a moment longer. Imagine- a companion animal of my very own! Oh, I'd always longed to have one! Unable to resist, I took her in my arms and buried my nose in the spiked fur at the back of her neck. Jasmine relaxed in my arms like a puddle, a low purr vibrating her entire form.

Mona slipped her hands in her pockets. "I know you weren't sure about another Fairy therapist, but when this Holly Applespark dame called Anti-Elina and asked if you'd be interested in a personal comfort specialist, how could we refuse?"

My eyes welled up with tears. I threw my free arm around Mona and pressed my forehead against hers. "Thank you. Thank you. I love her already."

Harold flung up his hands, the gaping sleeves of his robe dropping to his shoulders. "Am I seriously the only one concerned about this?"

Jasmine twisted to peer at him over her shoulder. "Listen," she said, "it's a metaphor."

And that was the end of his complaining.

My friends allowed me the afternoon alone with Jasmine, so we might sit on Sunnie's blue footbridge in the rear garden and get to know one another better. She instructed that I kneel while she groomed my face with her tongue, and by the time she'd finished, I felt peacefully safe. Cradling her against my shoulder, I entered the Castle and flew up the stairs to the third floor.

" _Help!"_  I heard before I even reached the landing. The voice was young and desperate. I blinked and peered down the corridor. To my surprise, a young pixie stood in front of my study door, caught beneath the sprig of mistletoe I'd hung up a mere week before. After setting Jasmine down, I stopped in front of the child and folded my arms behind my back.

"Well, well, well. It appears my little trap has caught a little mouse. Don't you know better than to wander Anti-Fairy World this time of year without peering up at the ceiling as you go?"

"I'm stuck," he sobbed, pounding against the walls of an invisible cage. "I can't leave."

I sighed and took my hands from behind me. "All right. Let me help. What's your name?"

"C-Caudwell… Rice ran up here, and I didn't want him to get lost, s-so I followed him…"

I crouched on my heels and held out my left hand, palm up. Sniffling, Caudwell lay his on top, palm down. I made eye contact with him. "Now, this is how you escape a mistletoe trap. I say aloud, _I like you as a friend."_  Then, clasping his fingers, I rotated our hands so they were reversed, with mine palm-down on his. "Allow this hex to end."

The sound of a lock clicking open shimmered through the energy field. The pixie stumbled forward, then realised he'd managed to escape. He shot inside my study without pausing to thank me, his wings kicking up a low buzz behind him. I shook my head and waited inevitably for him to run out again. When he did, he was holding a scruffy grey cù sith in his arms. I'd never seen such a small cù sith before, with eyes, head, and wings too big for the rest of its body. Its tail pressed down between its hind legs. Jasmine hissed and slid behind my feet. Caudwell ran directly beneath the mistletoe trap, hit the invisible wall again, and bounced back on the floor. When he looked about in alarm, I clenched my eyelids shut and suppressed a sigh.

"Let's try this again. This time, I shall explain. Do you see this plant?" I gestured upwards with a wave of my hand. "This is mistletoe. Mistletoe is a fascinating parasite because its berries operate as a symbol of bad luck while its leaves operate as one of good, making it the only charm in the business of luck and karma with loyalties which never fluctuate. Its position as a symbol of neutrality remains constant, whether one believes in its abilities or not, so we Anti-Fairies are not harmed by the aura it produces. In addition to being a lucky charm, mistletoe is also a symbol of fertility, and I'm interested in its amorous properties because…"

I trailed off, my hand still hanging in the air. I hardly noticed when the cù sith muttered the rhyme to cancel the hex and Caudwell scampered from his cell. There, on the floor of my study, lay the vial containing Ilisa's sperm and the canister containing Juandissimo's eggs. Outside of their frozen bubble. Split open and spilled.

I  _screeched_. It's a wonder the whole castle didn't hear it and come  _poof_ ing. Diving into my study and falling to my knees, I scraped what precious little remained of either canister towards me, dying liquid pooling in my hands. I looked about for some place to store what I'd saved, and in desperation, bubbled the feeble amount of liquid anew and stored it inside the empty chamber in my forehead, where once I had held Liloei. Jasmine pressed fearfully against my side.

"I-it was an accident," said the cù sith, stepping towards me.

I wouldn't hear it. Whipping around, I tore my wand from my sheath and chased after the fleeing beast. His paws scrambled for purchase on stone, and he yipped the entire way down the hall.

"BRING YOUR SORRY TAIL BACK HERE, YOU FILTHY MUTT! I'LL RIP OFF YOUR PELT AND USE IT TO LINE MY PILLOWCASE, AFTER I STUFF A PILLOW WITH YOUR STILL-WRITHING INNARDS AND TIE IT SHUT WITH THE CORDS OF YOUR FAGIGGLY GLAND, DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Calming breaths," Jasmine shrieked, clinging to my shoulder with her forepaws, the rest of her body flapping behind me like a flag.

Upon reaching the first floor of the Castle, the cù sith flew right to the door of the camarilla court's dining room and scratched his paws against it. If the sorry sap who'd let him upstairs was in there, then I intended to give him a piece of my mind. Without hesitation, I whipped out my wand and blew the whole door up with a blast of yellow magic.  _CRACK!_  The backlash sent both me and the cù sith flying back into the half-wall created by the staircase. Jasmine scrambled to maintain a hold on my shoulder, her black fur now sprinkled with wood shavings and spiked like a brush-hog's. By the time the smoke and dust cleared away, I had hopped back to my feet, clenching the wriggling mutt beneath my arm. I shouted something unintelligible even to me… and stopped.

 _Oh, you_ have  _to be yanking my wing._

At the far end of the camarilla's dining room, Mr. Whimsifinado, or the Head Pixie, or whatever he called himself, sat at the head of the table with his hands wrapped over the edge so only his fingertips pressed against the top. What I could make out of his expression from across the room was blank, but the flickering buzz of his wings against his chair despite the fact that he was sitting down placed his mood somewhere between interested and uneased. Good smoke, that chap moves about fast, doesn't he? In less than a week, he'd moved out of the Eros Nest, contacted me from a distant scry bowl, and now he was here? What did he  _do_  all day? Divine my future location and race me to it just to watch me squirm?

Anti-Bryndin sat in the seat of second-most honour at the Head Pixie's left. Clearly, the Head must be at karmic equilibrium. I wondered if he'd already offered the High Count his karmic blessing, or if that was yet to come. Thank Rhoswen I hadn't interrupted  _that_  pretty little scene…

"Oh," I squeaked, letting go of the rascally cù sith (He wasted no time in scurrying under the dining table). I covered my mouth and shrank into my wings. "You have… company."

"This is the truth," Anti-Bryndin said, with eerie calm. His half-lidded eyes sized me up where I stood, trembling, in the doorway. He lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips.

My ears caught on imaginary fire. Of course he had company. I'd found a young pixie wandering the Castle, so a simple matter of deduction could have predicted the Head Pixie himself would be here, and if he was here at suppertime, then of course he would be in the camarilla's front dining room rather than the great hall.

Jasmine leaned her body against my head, and frankly, her reassuring presence was all that granted me power to speak. "Please don't let coin sith into my study," I whimpered, and fled the dining room without waiting to hear the reply. I didn't even return upstairs. Instead, I tore through the Castle corridors, rushing through assorted reading and card rooms, and finally stopped in the building's rear to lean forward and clutch my knees.

"Oh gods," I choked out. My tail twitched. My hands slid up my arms to my shoulders, and I squeezed myself in a hug while dropping to my knees. "I'm going to be punished for this. And my mother's sure to hear word soon, so then I shall be punished again. And then my crechemates shall tease me, and I'll never be considered a desirable drake, and Mona will leave me, and-"

Jasmine rested her forepaw against my head, just beneath my ear. She said nothing, only listened while I spiralled into frantic nerves, but the gentle thrum of her purr tracing through my skin eventually soothed me into silence. I pulled the cat sith into my lap and clutched her close, rubbing my cheek into her petal-soft fur.

I avoided the Head Pixie and his brood to the best of my abilities for the rest of the evening- which, once Anti-Bryndin assigned me to nymphsitting duty so he might give the Head a tour of the Castle, wasn't very well at all. He'd brought nine pixies with him to the Castle. I looked at Jasmine and Mona, who both looked back at me.

"I'll watch the puppy," Mona volunteered.

"Eh…" The cù sith, sitting on his haunches, tilted his forepaw back and forth in the air. "I'm  _into_  Anti-Fairies, and you're not my type, sweetums."

With that settled, Jasmine and I gathered up the nine young pixies who were visiting us for Winter Turn and herded them all out into the courtyard. I kept them entertained by playing a game of "Race to fetch the weeds I describe," which was a brilliant way to catch up on my chores, if I do say so myself.

Perhaps an hour into our game, my ears detected approaching wingbeats, tiny pawsteps, and the jingle of a certain metal star charm, and swivelled back. "You're really good at entertaining kids for a juvenile," the Head Pixie said, coming up behind me. I noticed the undersized cù sith padding after him, nearly swallowed by the long grass. Mona wasn't with them. I straightened up, folding my arms behind my head as Jasmine faced the cù sith with a hiss.

"Oh, you know what they say. Nine's a handful, ninety's an armful, wot?"

He arched just one eyebrow above his glasses. "Ten."

"Ten?" Did he say he'd brought  _ten_  pixies to the Castle today? My mind flashed back to the last time I'd seen the group gathered in front of me, just a moment ago. "I… counted nine."

The Head Pixie tilted his head very slightly. "Behind you."

Puzzled, I glanced over my shoulder, and promptly leapt out of my skin. Literally… fae can do those sorts of silly things, sometimes.  _"Ah!"_ There, hovering low behind me, wings beating in absolute silence, offering me a scraggly weed, was an owl-eyed pixie with ghostly pale skin. "I  _did_  not hear you coming, child." In my defence, Jasmine and the Head Pixie's mutt were growling at one another, and that affected my detection abilities.

The Head Pixie, it turned out, had arrived at the Castle by flying carpet. As he and I shepherded the children onto it, I glanced at the young pixie's silent wings. My eyebrows shot up. His wings weren't shaped quite like those of his brethren, which were naturally ragged instead of smooth-cut like his. Someone had artificially clipped the traditional pixie squareness into an unnatural rounded shape. A distinctly will o' the wisp shape. Who would have access or authority-?

… Dm. Venus. This was the clumsy pixie nymph from the Eros Nest enclosure.

But why would she do such a thing? To grant the child incredibly silent flight for no discernible reason? To make his wings more aesthetically appealing so she might show him off to her Alien friends, even though in doing so she'd be presenting an inaccurate neotype of their species? Or…

My eyes rotated over to the Head Pixie, who was continually picking up one pixie and sitting him down on the flying carpet, even though the pixie would repeatedly get up and walk off it again. After I'd left the pixies to observe the genies, Juandissimo had informed me that the Head Pixie had begun "acting rashly and injuring his drones to the point the Triplets moved him to solitary confinement for a time." Had Dm. Venus threatened the child to scare his caretaker back into line? Fairy wings lacked the nerves to feel pain, but artfully clipping them would be an effective warning…

"Anti-Bryndin seems neat," the Head Pixie said, oblivious of my fixation with the little pixie.

"What?" I muttered. The cù sith (the Head Pixie called him Rice) had made a move towards Jasmine, which she responded to with a slash of claws. It only seemed to amuse him, and he took to chasing her among the hedges and statues in the courtyard in a lazy, teasing way. "Oh, yes, he makes a fine High Count. We all think so- Anti-Elina especially, of course."

The Head Pixie leaned back on his heels, slipping his hands into his pockets. "So, which of his wives is the one he married on purpose, and which is the one he makes babies with?"

My ears went stiff. Very slowly, I rotated them around. "Excuse me?"

He glanced over at me. "I've just always wondered. It's not something we really talk about on our side of the Barrier. So? Which is which?"

I picked up a nymph in a hexagonal exoskeleton who kept chewing on my foot with intent to devour. "Sir, I hope you realise that I am coming from a humble place. Before I answer that question, might I… offer you some advice that I think would benefit you as you familiarise yourself with Anti-Fairy culture?"

The Head Pixie tilted his head towards his left shoulder. "If you think this is the right time for it. Shoot me."

I hoped that "Shoot" was synonymous with "Proceed."

Oh, gods.  _Was_  this the right time for it? Someone had to talk to him before we were all too mortified stiff to keel over. I cleared my throat and brushed my hair behind one ear.

"Right, yes. Of course. Head Pixie, do you know what my name is?"

"We were never formally introduced."

Oof.

"I gave you a tour when you visited Sugarslew just before you bought it out," I prompted, wincing as the nymph's gums discovered my ear.

A spark of recognition flickered in his eyes. "Right. Wait. Wait. I know this." He snapped his fingers. "Yes. You're Anti-Cosmo. My first drone was named Cosmo. That's easy to remember."

Oh. Smashing, that. I decided to try a different approach.

"I've noticed that you call your nephew Mister by a different name when addressing him than you do when introducing him."

"Which one?"

"What?"

He stared at me. Fierce. Guarded. Unblinking. "All my pixies. They're all named Mister. Which one are you referring to?"

"I thought…" I blinked, pressing a knuckle inside the mouth of the chewing nymph. "What? They're all named what?"

"They're all named Mister," he said again. "I taught them to introduce themselves as 'Mr.' for specific reasons."

"Oh. So we might have a point in common after all. Good. Now, is there a certain age in Pixie culture where young pixies are forever after referred to specifically by their second name, instead of Mister?" I'd read once that in Refracted culture, most children were addressed simply as "Son" and "Daughter," and one's partner as either "Dear Husband" or "Dear Wife." Since so many Refracts grew up without knowing the name of their hosting counterpart, names were not all that important in their society. Perhaps "Mister" was what Pixies called their nymphs in a similar fashion.

The Head Pixie thought about my question for a moment, then put out his foot to trip Rice as he raced by. The cù sith went sprawling face-first in the dirt, his rump in the air. "Mmm… Nope. I call my pixies by whichever name I want when I feel like it."

Well, this was going everywhere except the direction I'd intended. I took my hand from the nymph (who groped for it and made little "Ah- ah- ah!" noises) and pinched the bridge of my nose. "All right. Well. Surely you can think of certain distinct situations in Pixie culture" - I made a point of emphasizing the word 'culture" - "when it would be appropriate to address a pixie as strictly one name or the other. Something tied integrally to the etiquette traditions of your culture, when you absolutely wouldn't want a mistake made."

"Of course. When I want to single one pixie out, I refer to him by his given surname." He watched Jasmine leap a rock to a statue and land upon my shoulder. "When I want the attention of all my pixies in the plural form, or when I require a task done but don't care who does it so long as it's done right, I shout for Mister and assign the job to the first one who comes running. They're not that bright, so they always come running."

"So… Mister is a title?"

"Sure. But it's also the name on all their legal birth records in the Eros Nest."

What? I brought two fingers to my temple, careful not to knock Jasmine off. She'd just sat and begun to lick her paws. "Forgive me for speaking so forwardly, sir. But, is there a reason why Pixies chose to go that route, and name all nymphs Mister for life instead of using the word as a temporary title?"

The Head Pixie thought for a second again. Then he lifted his shoulders very slightly and closed his eyes. I had the distinct impression that he chose to roll them behind his lids. "It's funny. It allows me to maintain a professional distance from my kin. I don't want to be accused of nepotism."

Not only that, but it was bound to win him an award for Most Committed Drones one of these days, too.

I supposed I was the last one who should be saying anything about his cultural naming traditions that might offend him, seeing as I so craved respect from him. My fingers slid to cover my eyes. The nymph progressed to chewing on the long curls of my hair. "All right. Well. As an Anti-Fairy under the age of 150,000, it's appropriate to address me by my private name, Julius. Not as Anti-Cosmo. I haven't earned the right to use that name yet. And, once I-"

"Why?"

"Beg your humble pardon?"

The Head Pixie stared at me. "Why do you have to 'earn' the right to use your own name? What do you do besides just hitting the age of 150,000?"

I sighed. "It's our custom. And when I do come of age, then everyone is expected to refer to me as Anti-Cosmo, and only my most intimate partners are allowed to refer to me by my private name. And it should only be in private. Sometimes it slips out, but it's supposed to be a private thing."

"Hmm." He looked up at the sky. "I always thought you Anti-Fairies were supposed to switch to using your real names after you learned them. I always wondered why it took so long for most of you to figure those out."

"Julius is my real name," I somehow managed to say without grinding my teeth. My hands tightened around the nymph. I pulled him from my head and put him down on the flying carpet. I took Jasmine in my arms instead and hugged her to my chest. "It's my private one. I'll use my anti-name in public once I'm 150,000. Until then, please call me Julius. It's considered polite to ask all Anti-Fairies with whom you interact how you ought to address them, rather than making your own assumptions about their age."

"By the time I see you again, your name will be Anti-Cosmo," he said evasively. "So, back to Anti-Bryndin's wives. Which one is which?"

Okay. Okay. Shifting Jasmine to my other side, I drew my wand from my sheath and tapped it against my leg. "All right, then. Why do you want to know?"

The Head Pixie looked at me again. "Because I'm honestly curious about Anti-Fairy culture."

My wand about snapped in my hand right then. Oh. My. Stars. A lump of magic welled up in my throat, but I managed to smooth it down before I lost my temper. Somehow.  _Somehow_. I inhaled through my nose and exhaled between my fangs.

"Anti-Bryndin selected Anti-Elina as his High Countess because of her brilliance and dedication not only to him, but to all our people. Marriage strengthens the bond between them. It's because of their marriage that he is permitted to call her by her private name. Such is the level of intimacy expected between the High Count and Countess. His second wife, Anti-Zoe, is the counterpart of the damsel whom Swanee-Bryndin is currently paired up with. Anti-Bryndin takes care of her out of respect for his counterpart, and marriage was the best way to do that. Winslow, the heir to the High Count seat, resulted from the union between the two of them. My mother, Anti-Florensa, is Anti-Bryndin's primary bodyguard. And… that's why they're married, I suppose. My father never wanted to, so… When Anti-Bryndin asked, she said yes."

The Head Pixie considered my words, counting off points with flicks of his fingers. When he finished, the face he looked at me with was nothing short of perplexed. "Wait. Anti-Florensa is your mother? What does that make you?"

"A noble, of course." I gestured towards my green eyes for emphasis. "I am living here in the Castle, after all."

"Why were you working at that one chocolate factory when we first met?"

My forehead creased. "I needed work. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're a noble. That's kind of weird. Okay. Wait." He lifted one finger. "Let's take this from the top. What species is Anti-Zoe?"

"Anti-korrigan."

The Head Pixie scratched the spiky hair around his ear. "Interesting… In that case, according to the Fairy legal system,  _you_ would actually be heir to the High Count seat right now."

A chill trickled down my spine. I tightened my grip on Jasmine's flank. "What?"

"Better believe it. Anti-Bryndin only has three wives, right?"

I didn't even know how to answer that. Fortunately, he didn't wait for me.

"High Countess Anti-Elina is an anti-goblin. This Anti-Zoe person is an anti-korrigan. So among the three, your mother is the only common anti-fairy."

"Yes," I said, more hesitantly.

"Well, in the Fairy legal system, if Anti-Bryndin married your mother, that makes you his adopted son. Legally, you would be considered one of his heirs. Korrigans and goblins are both lower on the social ladder than common fairies are. Your mother outranks them, so as her son, you would be next in line for the High Count seat. Anti-Phillip would only inherit after you."

He meant Winslow. I shook my head, pushing his cù sith away with my foot. "Well, I have an older brother. Anti-Robin. He's… estranged now, and I haven't seen him for millennia, but I imagine he would have to come first."

"Oh. Then you'd inherit after Anti-Phillip. Sorry, dude. That's a rot. But, you're still a prince to me. I think it's interesting to think about how much would change if we swapped legal systems, don't you?" When the Head Pixie looked at me again, it seemed to be with a new layer of respect in his eyes. Flustered, I averted my gaze and fought the cooling in my cheeks.

His comment bit into my skin regardless. Was that really true? In an alternate reality, would I be next in line to inherit the High Count seat? I mean, my brother  _did_  flee home, which technically meant he'd renounced his inheritance… So if we still lived in the time before the war, when Anti-Fairies had used the Fairy legal system, would I really be the next…?

I shook my head. Hard. Then I brushed my hands down my shirt. There was no point in dwelling on what could have been. We may have used their system once, but not anymore. We Anti-Fairies may have… altered our law… just before my birth, but that didn't change a thing.

_You would be next in line for the High Count seat._

I almost laughed aloud. Me, High Count someday? Haha! How absurd! I mean,  _certainly_  I was the most qualified drake for the position, having attended so much school and being brilliant for as long as I have, and of course every child daydreams of lording such power over everyone else, but I could never be a leader! After all, I'd never overseen any ceremonies or attended Council meetings or spoken with ambassadors or had any of the experiences Winslow… had been… handed… just because… he was… reincarnated in a different… body… than… me…

A lump formed at the base of my throat. I turned away from the Head Pixie, wiping the end of my sleeve across my eyes. Stupid, stupid. I wasn't going to be bitter about this. It was pointless to cry over what could have been. All that mattered was the life I was living now.

"Oh," said the Head Pixie, leaning his weight to one side. He nodded slowly in understanding. "Anti-Fairy World only made the switch recently. Anti-Ember only had one kid. You're the first generation the new law affects. Wow. Talk about bad luck."

"Never mind," I said, forcing a smile. I pressed back my ears. "I, um… I was going to talk to you about something."

"Probably. That tends to be a common conversation topic."

"Yes, quite. I, um…" My hand pinched the fluff of my chest beneath my shirt. "Look here, old chap. I… mm. How do I put this… Ah, I appreciate the commentary you bring to every conversation, as I do find your insights rather fascinating, but on occasion, I, er, worry that the Fairy styles of communication are too direct for us, and… My people are rather sensitive to those they haven't yet closely bonded with, you see, and I worry that if you continue speaking up so forwardly here at the Castle, you, um… might offend someone without meaning to."

My own words stung the roof of my mouth, but the Head Pixie didn't even appear phased by my critique. "I'll believe that," he said, tilting his head. "I basically never think about anything I say until it pops out. Well. Thanks. That is the most tactful way I have ever been slayed before. I'll keep that in mind."

My forehead crinkled. "'Slayed'?"

"It's a modern slang term. It means 'put in my place.' 'Corrected.' 'Told off.' The younger generation use it. All the time. Every day."

"Ah."

He shook his head in disbelief and, finally, shut the growling cù sith up with a soft prod to the ribs. "Get with the times, dude."

We loaded his straying pixies on the flying carpet one last time, and while the Head Pixie exchanged parting words with Anti-Bryndin, I recounted them to assure myself we'd gotten them all (That little owl-eyed one was terribly slippery). At last the Head returned and lifted the carpet into the air. I waved them off, and stayed a moment to watch them go. Once the carpet became a speck in the sky, I folded my arms and sighed.

_You would be next in line for the High Count seat._

No use wondering about it now. I hugged Jasmine to my chest and flew inside the Castle again, turning through this hall and that one, this den and that.

_You would be next in line…_

"Anti-Bryndin," I suddenly squeaked, swerving to the side so as not to fly into him. He was holding a small grey box with a black lid, staring at a secret passage door and obviously waiting for someone to open it for him. Curiously, Anti-Buster wasn't around to do so. I remained startled for a moment, then hardened my gaze. "High Count, I've been trapped wandless in Fairy World for days, and I attempted to contact your crystal ball multiple times. I'd hoped you might send help for me, or perhaps provide the funds for a long-distance teleportation."

I did not include the words,  _You picked up. You said you'd come yourself. You never showed._

Anti-Bryndin looked at me for a few seconds. Then recognition lit his eyes. "Ah, yes! So sorry, Julius. Something came up that day. An emergency thing." He rubbed one of his chimera horns between the pads of his thumb and forefinger and put out his tongue. "The Head Pixie, he was coronated to be Head Pixie then. I had to go and represent the Anti-Fairies at the Lia Fáil, which is the singing Stone of Destiny in the land of Inis Fáil, which is an Earthside place. The sun is not to set on the Stone while a seat among fae ambassadors is open on the Council. I was called, and I could not deny the law. Even if I am very great and full with power."

"Oh." I floated after him as he moved along the corridor, taking the long way around to his office. Lowering my chin to Jasmine's fur, I said, "Well, all right, I suppose that's fair. May I ask what's in the curious Fairy World box, High Count?"

Anti-Bryndin paused at the end of the hall. He glanced to the left. Then to the right. Then he turned around to me. "I should not show you," he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "but you can look if you will tell no one."

"Of course." I leaned forward as he eased off the black lid. Two ice candles, one tall and thick and one short and thin, rolled to the front of the box when he tipped it forward. Both were grey, and the patterns up and down their sides were generally squares and hexagons. I furrowed my brow.

"Mourning candles? For the pixies?"

Anti-Bryndin nodded. He pointed to the larger candle. "Head Pixie." His claw moved to the second. "Pixie marquess." Then he replaced the lid. The box went under his arm. "They are new. Not for playing with. Only for dead people. This is good-bye."

He flew around the corner with a hum. "Oh," I said, watching him go. My core flickered in my head, sinking lower. Burning colourful mourning candles to honour the dead was an Anti-Fairy custom. Both the High Count and High Countess kept dozens of them tucked away in their office closets unless they were in use. Once a mourner lit such a candle with their wand, social protocol prevented them from leaving the room until they chose to blow it out, and thus allowed the lingering spirit to progress to their next incarnation free of guilt, they having been granted peace and assurance by the living who mourned them.

The only reason Anti-Bryndin would bring fresh mourning candles back to the Castle was if he had burned the previous ones. The former Head Pixie, perhaps Mr. Whimsifinado's brother… Mister's father… Had he died? Had Mr. Whimsifinado engaged him in gyne combat and killed him the way he'd killed Mickey? Or had he passed somewhere in the depths of the Eros Nest, imprisoned there much as I had been long ago?

"He never flew free again," I murmured, and stayed in the corridor twisting and untwisting the cap of my wand, thinking about that for a long while.

Mona and I made pilgrimage to the Soil Temple the following week. I'd seen sketches of the place before, of course, but I… I'd never seen it from  _this_  side before. I knew the place from its back way, far off in Fairy World and both blocked and guarded now. No written sign declared the Temple's identity, but two bronze statues of donkeys - one sleeping, one alert - knelt on either side of the dark… gaping… cave. Two acolytes stood near them, wearing the expected brown, white, and black robes. I hovered at the entrance, staring into the depths of the mountain. It wasn't called the Soil Temple without reason. Twis' Temple was not as smooth and polished as a river stone, as Sunnie's sacred house had been in Faeheim. All was dirt. All was dry. All was ancient.

Mona squeezed my hand. "Does it feel faintly familiar?"

"They rebuilt this place after the collapse, you know. Right here. This is the same entrance. They didn't move it. It happened right here. The tunnel mouth collapsed. Right here, Mona. That's where I died." I floated there, biting my lip. Then I turned around. "Feel free to go in if you want to. I'd like to stay outside."

She blinked. "After we came all this way?"

"Yes, thank you. I just wanted to see the accursed place again. From the outside."

"Try?" she asked, pulling on my arm. Instant guilt flooded my cheeks. Twis was to Mona what Sunnie was to me: The guardian of her birth year. It was only natural that she feel a closer kinship to him than the other zodiac spirits, and here I was, holding her back with my burdensome fears.

So I swallowed… and made my way inside.

"I'm thinking I may quit my internship at the Nest," I told Mona a moment later as we walked the thin tunnel path towards the Temple's rear. The Ilisa in me wasn't fond of the environment, but I'd insisted on making our way to the worship rooms. I had to prove I could. And I was doing all right, I think. Mona's hand was in mine. I clenched her claws more tightly. "I really hate to leave it, because I do love the work itself, but lately it's the principle of the matter that I've been struggling with. The Eroses, I've found, treat even the Fairykind much like simple animals. And, well…" I tipped my head. "I don't wish to support that anymore. I loathe working for someone I don't like, you know what I mean?"

Mona trailed her gaze along the floor. To either side, the ruddy rock wall we stood upon dropped away into a deep, dark abyss. We walked a narrow rocky path along the centre, which was a shadowy trail illuminated only on occasion by pale blue stones that glowed near our feet. All was quiet now. Apart from the restless Temple guardians drifting like ghosts through the silence around us, we were alone. She asked, "Now, what's nearly next?"

"Hm? Well, now that Dm. Charite has inadvertently nudged my research-oriented mind in a new direction, that's it, isn't it? We Anti-Fairies can bear children after all, she said… All it will take now is a bit of planning on my part, along with some clever secrecy to prevent some cruel fellow from taking undue credit for my work, but I can handle it all on my own from here. I've learned the secrets I came for, and I require the Triplets' teachings no longer."

"Regarding your retirement, will they let you live with Lohai again?"

"Oh, Lohai will be all right. I have positive relations with Juandissimo and Dm. Charite, and I'm certain one or the other will send for me when the time comes for her to breed." I tilted back my head, and sighed. The ceiling was terribly low. The stalactites had grown back. I didn't like them, and shut my eyes as we went on. Still holding Mona's hand, I brought it to my heart. "It's terribly strange. I expected to miss her more. I cared for her for thousands of years, but I suppose part of me always knew the day of letting her go would come, in all its dear bittersweetness. I'm glad of it. She's better off living with professional caretakers and other genies than me and that cramped little box I've kept her in, I'm sure. She's really outgrown it anyway… Perhaps I am very young, and not yet ready to raise a child for good, even being as brilliant as I am."

Mona pressed her nose to the base of my ear. I slowed my pace. Her eyelashes fluttered against my fur. "Mm… Stop stressing yourself so ceaselessly silly, sweetie. Even if you don't succeed in securing a precious pup of our own, my counterpart still may have a nymph someday, so we'll be able to raise-"

"But I want my  _own_  pups, Mona.  _Our_  pups. Remember?" When she didn't respond, I scoffed and pulled her along again. Moving forward helped me focus on our destination, rather than the ancient memories I held of this place. "Darling, please. It needs to be discussed. My research is everything to me.  _Fatherhood_  is everything to me." Turning on my heel, I gripped her shoulders very tight. "Do I have your full support behind my intentions?"

Mona cast her eyes downward. She smoothed her dark skirts. "I do dearly respect your dreams, Julius. But I will request, if you truly do believe you can bring a child of our own to life, that you hold off that pursuit until you return from traveling with your bachelor colony. I do hope you still plan to lead one when you come of age…"

"Oh, pooh. You know I can't commit to that, Mona. I'd have to leave school, and I've come so very far! No, no, the nomadic life is not for me, thank you."

"You at least have to sweep the land for a century," she argued, tugging on my arm. "It's traditional."

I pulled my hand back and gripped it with the other. "I'm hardly a traditional bloke, dear."

Mona frowned. "Flying with a bachelor colony is a rite of passage for drakes. As a damsel, I'll never have the true experience. If you won't do it for yourself, will you let me live it through the stories you bring home?"

"I'd rather maintain access to my study, but thank you kindly."

"All drakes leave their birth colonies when they become adults. It's- it's part of our biology!"

"As is seasonal torpor, yet I see no one crying out for us to disband our colony system and return to our old ways of living in our counterparts' homes side by side. We're more than simple bats."

She tried a different tactic. "My friends will gossip if you don't. They'll see me as selfish, as though I begged you not to leave me long. My mother's colony will scoff. They'll say I'm unfaithful to the nature spirits, unwilling to sacrifice all I'm asked to. It's seen as shameful."

My ears quivered, but only briefly. I shook my head. "Mona, do recall that when you stay with the Anti-Coppertalon colony, you are intended to hold yourself above the rumours and gossip of the common people. What a foreign colony has to say regarding my humble, lowly self hardly concerns me at the moment. I have more crucial ventures to devote my attention to."

"… What if  _I_  want you to go?"

"Oh," I said, slightly narrowing my eyes. I straightened my wings. "You want me to be the first drake of our cohort to form a new colony, so that I might be its leader. You wish for me to make you my queen."

"I wouldn't refuse."

"Why? My colony would be small, so the title offers you no power. It won't be like the High Countess position."

"Because I want to warn you with reminders of what's important, and be your reason to not cave under pressure. When you come of age, Anti-Bryndin will drive you out- with or without a nearby bachelor colony for you to join." The fur around her neck fluffed up. She stared down at me with her jaw set. "He drove your brother out. Teresa told my mum, and she told me. A creche father cares for all the pups in his colony because their biological ones  _aren't supposed to be here._ If he didn't lead the royal colony, Anti-Bryndin wouldn't permit any males beyond Anti-Buster at all. Anti-Bryndin allows the camarilla court to stay, at least, but my mums' colony's creche father drives out all but his follower drake. Don't you delight in dutifully departing on your own terms, decorated in days' worth of supplies?"

"Mona," I said, puzzled. "Why is this so important to you?"

Mona clenched her eyes shut.  _"All drakes too passive to leave their birth colony grow up to be servants!_ It's like this across all of Anti-Fairy World! You're either a leader, or you lick the dirt off your creche father's toes. 'Follower drake' is just a fancy title for a servant in charge of lower servants. Is that the future you want? Is… is that what you want for my future? And for our pups?"

"My father was a servant," I said, touching my hand to my chest. My wings (though grounded by the Temple's power) beat uncertainly as my nerves regarding our conversation and my anxieties regarding our location both swelled up. "I take personal offense at your inherent disgust for the position."

 _"Everyone's_ father was a servant, unless they were born the creche father's own. My own father has served as a fruit forager his whole life, and guess how many times I've had the chance to see him!"

… She had two mums. And with the honey-lock driving his brain, he wouldn't have made any time for his daughter whenever he came to visit Anti-Penny. I lowered my gaze.

"I don't want that for our pups, Julius," Mona pressed, hugging her arms. "I want you to be a father they can be proud of. If you want to research, then research… but make yourself a leader first."

In the darkness to either side of us, where the grey mists swirled, a golden shape flickered and vanished again. I glanced at it briefly, then fixed my attention back on Mona. If we didn't keep moving, those wispy sentinels might grow bold enough to approach. Twis was not a social deity, and it was said that lost souls who had yet to reincarnate were often drawn to this place, passing their afterlives in service as his guardians. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I myself had served many centuries here until I'd been reborn. Perhaps my father was here now, stripped of his memories, spending his days shooing rebellious children out of the shadows and back on the lit path… If he truly was as goody-goody as my mother had always insisted, then after a life of serving others, it's unlikely he'd have been assertive enough to push his way to the front of the reincarnation sign-up line.

The entire Temple ambiance prickled constantly at the back of my neck, but I bit my lip and maintained my composure. "Come on," I said to Mona, motioning with my hand. "Let's hurry along. And… I'll think about organising a bachelor colony, and seizing the role of leader. I promise."

Mona stuffed her hands in her amauti pockets and leaned forward as we went. "I bathe myself every morning without fail, no matter how early, just the way you like me to. I always intend to wear clothing which interests your enjoying eyes each eon. What do you do to make yourself desirable for me, Julius?"

"For you?" I asked, puzzled. I quickened my pace, keeping my fingers threaded in hers. My eyes darted to the drop on our left, where a few rogue spirits were bobbing some ways across the misty pit, watching in silence. "Whatever do you mean by that? You're a Soil damsel, submissive to me in every way. You are meant to please me, not the other way around. What's all this about altering who I am? Why, the very idea is sacrilegious, for it spits upon our belief in soulmates and destiny!"

Her jaw dropped open. "Do you think  _drakes_  are the only folk who fantasize of far-off futures?" Mona pulled back her hand then, so I dropped it and glanced at her sideways.

"How do you mean?"

"Your research lights you up," she said, bringing her hands to her breast. She stepped a bit closer. "Which is why I worry. What if I won't? Not anymore. Not for nearly long enough. Am I undesirable?"

"Absolutely not," I assured her, stepping close to meet her halfway. "Have you not seen the way Electro perks up when you float into the room? Or how Winslow and Tumble shift terribly close to us at roost? Why, I've caught even Noon leaning back to watch your hips pass on days he's come to visit! What greater sign of desire is there than to have the drakes who wish to claim you drooling on your heels?"

Mona exhaled through her nose, her effervescence glittering blue in the glow of the rocks. "Julius, we don't typically… talk tons anymore, like we tried to a thousand years ago. We haven't shared long kisses by the window alcove in centuries, or bundled beside each other on the balcony benches… or snuggled sleepily sometimes in your study. I miss that. I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me?" I found the very thought intriguing. As her despair grew, I took her in a gentle embrace and drew her body against my own, so our lower halves brushed together through our clothes (More or less… Height differences are irritating). "My dear, I returned to you from a genie's lamp. I don't forget you when I'm away at school. I still speak with you despite the time I spend at the Eros Nest. Don't I always come back? Don't you trust me to uphold the oath I swore before the spirits, when I took you as my betrothed that night of the new year long ago? I should hope you consider me honourable after all the time you've known me."

"Do you love me?" she asked, placing her chin atop my head.

"Yes, of course. I shouldn't stay on with you if I didn't." As I'd just reminded her, I was a gentledrake of honour. And as an honourable fellow, it was not my intention to ever leave her comfortless. Did she not understand that? Perhaps I'd been unclear.

Mona bit her lower lip, pressing her chest against mine. With a quick flick, she pulled the woollen hood of her amauti up over her ears. "I have no interest in other drakes. Double for damsels. You're my destined dear. I want  _you_  to be the only one I kiss. I want you to be the only one who ever sings to me at roost." Softer, "And I long for you to feel the same way…"

"Mona?" I searched her face with mounting concern. "Forgive any offense, but from your tone, I wonder… Have… you ever engaged in sociosexual behaviour with anyone aside from me before?"

When she shook her head, it was with subtle pride. My stomach twisted. Uncertainly, I placed my hands beneath her wings and pulled her tighter to my body. The touch of cool fur beneath cloth didn't soothe my anxieties as much as I'd been hoping.

"You want monogamy…"

"My deepest dream is for every whit of it."

I bit my knuckle. "Oh dear. So, your grand plan is that we'll be wholly engaged with one another our entire lives, then? Erm… Mona, I… never knew you were interested in that sort of thing…" Even as I said it, I realised with horror all the opportunities she intended to deprive me of, faster than a handful of seeping mud dripping through my claws. All the giggling damsels, all the playful drakes, all my colonymates, all the strangers, all the celebrities… Sucking in my breath, flicking my ear, I sent a soft prayer skyward requesting that the spirits sprinkle a bit more sense in her poor head.

Surely they'd take my side in this debate. While there was no one I desired more than Mona at the moment, I still wanted to keep all offers open for the future. During my long treks to the Eros Nest and back each week, I'd entertained so many secret fantasies. Every one bloomed with the thrill of dangerous spontaneity, of passion striking just one of a pair at the least opportune moments while the other is left with no choice but to follow their lead… a syrupy sweet damsel with fiery sunset hair and brilliantly wide wings sitting skirtless and cross-legged upon a chair without noticing what she was showing underneath until I casually tipped her off… a dear drakefriend slipping silently up behind me while I was dressing - undressed himself - and clapping a hand to my mouth before I could yelp, then whisking me into the shadows and pressing me so close, so close, showering my neck with kisses but at the same time straining to reach my stomach pouch, all while never letting my squirming self go… I dreamed of singing in the rain… and most of all, I often found myself daydreaming of a long-beloved partner whose simultaneous teasing talk and pleasured squeals would morph into panicked whines while I laughingly pinned their shoulders to the…

Mm… Perhaps I won't finish voicing that one. In any case, I had my wants. I had my needs. I valued creativity, adventure, and new experiences, and if Mona's "wildest" kisses were anything to go by, she was hardly my first choice to confess my secret hopes to. Not if I expected them to be fulfilled, anyway.

No. If I ever wished to be happy, I needed choices available on a very frequent basis. At this rate, lifelong monogamy was not. an. option.

Mona gazed down at me, lips parted in cold calculation. In a swift, sharp movement, she slipped her hands behind my back and forced me somehow closer to her, too, flattening my cheek to her collarbone. "There's a lot you don't know about me and my interests. I want you to call me desirable. If you do love me, will you kiss me as you cared to a thousand years ago?"

"Here?" I asked, straining so I could get a better look at the other half of the chamber with my good eye. As far as living visitors to the Temple, we were the only ones on our segment of the long walking path, but we'd begun to attract a growing crowd of spectating specters hovering above the foggy drop. "I'm hardly in the mood for it."

"Here," she said. "They can watch us."

"All right…" I rolled each of my jacket sleeves to my elbows in turn, then pushed the heel of my hand up through my hair in an attempt to make it stick back. Smothering my hesitations, I placed one arm across my waist and bowed. I stretched the other hand to Mona. "May I, my dear?"

"You may."

I initiated gently, holding her lower lip in both of mine. My hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, then down again as I stepped closer. Mona half-stepped away, much to my surprise. I paused, recalculating for a simple second. Did she intend to resist me? How very… uncommon for an Anti-Fairy. Well, colour me intrigued. So I followed, tightening my grip on her forearms in warning that if she denied me again, I should have to turn fiercer.

Only… we strayed too near the edge of the path, somehow. Mona's foot slipped back in a loose place. She lost her balance with a gasp. I went after her. We tumbled down the rocks in tandem, plunging into the abyss. It didn't drop us far- merely to the black sand below the layers of mist. My head thunked against hers more than once.

"No," I spluttered, kneeling up. The fog was so thick down here, and no glowing blue crystals marked our way. I could barely make out the red of the sharp rocks we were  _supposed_  to remain on. "We're not supposed to leave the path… This is Twis' private realm down here. He embodies the Temple, so we are essentially walking upon his chest now like tiny fleas-"

Mona only murmured and locked her arms around my neck. Despite my protests, she pulled my face down to hers. I tried again.

"Mona, we- We left the path! Should we be caught by someone with an identity and voice, we'll be in horrendous trouble!"

She ignored me. Her kisses were fierce and freezing, so I awkwardly surrendered to them with a shrug of my wings. Just for a moment, mind. After several soft exchanges, soothing one another's stress in the patient, gentle way of our people, we sat up together. Mona drew back, but no farther than she had to. She fell against me, gently sighing, and rested her chin atop my head again.

"Oh, Julius… I could never leave you long. Each night you're away, I fantasize of your every sliding step, your every whipping wing. Let's not forget, we were surely soulmates in our lives before." Her hands slid along my wings, curling to rest at the crooks of the elbows. Her talons tightened. She brought her body to mine again. Her shirt had become a bit folded (and I was  _incredibly_  aware of the slit running up her exposed stomach). "Forgive my foolish fretting. You are my soulmate, and I shall strive to steady my senseless suspicions. I trust in Tarrow. And in you."

"Darling," I warned, kissing her jaw, "the Temple guardians are growing more curious the longer we're down here. Let's put this conversation off until another day, hm?"

"Oh. Oh." She turned her face away. I could feel the cold of her blush against my forehead. Her claws reached behind my neck, snagging in the back of my working jacket. Her effervescence left her stronger now, the faint cloud of stale, glittering magic growing larger until it swirled in spirals from her mouth and nose. "If you dearly desire me, you'll dare to delight me now, dishing dangerous kisses without restraint. You'll demand I undress so you might touch my hips bare, and- and when you finish such explorations, you'll dare demand I tear yours from you in pursuit of precious passion. Publicly. Unabashed." Mona's pale, ghostly pink wings flicked forward, wrapping beneath mine in a loose half-bundle, which I did not complete by mirroring the gesture (for my curiosity compelled me to stay still). She softly gasped, gripping me tight. "I long to watch your wrenching wings, which wildly writhe without withholding pleasure… I dream of your whispers flowing across my ears. I desire all of that someday, when we come of age. I desire such satisfaction solely with you. Do you realise that?"

Frankly, I chuckled behind my fingertips. "Come now, my sweet slice of fruit- don't talk tosh. Everyone knows damsels don't fantasize of intimate play. That's why I'm so fascinated by drakes!"

Mona did not speak. She shivered against me, quietly. I cocked my head, idly sliding my thumb across her stomach, but she leaned away and her shirt slipped back into place.

"Darling, do you trust me?"

Her eyes flickered low again, followed by a lump. "More than most, my man."

"Is it not true that Tarrow betrothed us when we were young?"

"I suppose…"

Hearing this, I embraced her firmly, running my hands down her shoulders until they reached her elbows, then her wrists. I dropped them to her lap. "Then that's all that matters. Let us worry not over the future at the moment, and let's live our happy lives in harmony instead, just as we are fated to."

We began to stand and pull our askew clothing back into place. "Then you'll lead your colony?" she asked.

"As I said, I will consider it." Stretching up to push her frizzy hair behind her ear with two claws, I kissed her softly again. "But darling, I've already lived a lifetime taking orders against my will. If our relationship is going to last forever, then there is one simple thing you must understand."

She was still tugging at the band of her skirt. "Oh?"

On my tiptoes, my arms around her neck, Mona bending just a bit so I could reach, I leaned my mouth against her ear.

"My dear, my beloved, my sweet crown  _jewel_  in this wretched world… Should the day ever come when I am expected to accept a damsel's advice" - I pinched her fur more tightly, my voice sliding to a snarl - "you'd sooner catch me kissing a brownie's  _arse_."

Mona looked away, huffing softly through her tight fangs. I released her, smiling thinly, and flicked a dismissive hand. "Anyway, you said you bathe every morning in an attempt to impress me. I hadn't noticed. If you truly did care to make your physical appearance more desirable to me, you'd find a way to keep your hair from frizzing up as such, hm? No offense, dear, but no crow would ever nest in there, lest she forget her way out again. Come along now, if you've finished remaking yourself somewhat presentable for the public eye." Twisting on my heel, I beckoned for Mona to follow. "We're nearly to the worship rooms, and now we have an irritating rock wall to climb back to the path. Do keep up."

Mona's hand snaked out and snatched my wrist. I blinked at the rock wall in front of me, but she pulled me around to face her.

"Who wants the privacy of a worship room?" she asked.

"I thought we'd brought an offering…? Did we not wish to pray?"

Using one wing, she gestured to the dark sand around us. "What's wrong with remaining here?"

"Don't tell me you intend to extend our kissing session," I said, stepping away. "Not here. Let's not forget, Twis can see us anywhere we go within these walls. Unless something incredibly interesting is going on elsewhere in the Temple, chances are we're the centre of his attention."

"I hope so," she murmured, and pressed her lips to mine again. Eh? Was she serious? I leaned backwards, my monocle slipping from my eye. With a shake of my head, I chose not to correct it. Instead, I returned her delightful sentiment. Wispy spirits in all five colours of the Fairy rainbow circled curiously round about us as time went on, but though they came close enough to prod our bodies with illusionary fingertips, they did not interfere.

We never did make it to the worship rooms that day, but I say… it's harder to feel any closer to the spirits than when you feel assured they're watching, wot?

Technically speaking, I suppose the kisses Mona and I exchanged while tumbling in the Temple's sacred sands were an illicit behaviour, but something about the whole thing ignited a hunger in me… I realised then that I  _liked_  the thrilling pressure that someone might walk up and scold us for our passions. I rather enjoyed playing dangerously in front of the lost souls, even though I doubt their simple minds understood what they had witnessed beyond recognising that two Anti-Fairies had fallen from the lit path above. I suppose… I just liked showing off. As we left the Temple, sheepish and giggling, I paused to glance over my shoulder at that gaping entrance where I had died so long ago.

 _I'll return one day,_  I decided, sweeping my tongue around my lips.  _Once upon a time, Temple, you killed a dame who felt helpless as she died. So when I am older, someday, somehow, I am going to make the most passionate love inside your walls and leave signs behind to prove to those who come after me that I did. And I shall come prepared with defence spells and trickeries to protect myself, even from the power of nature spirits, so YOU shall be the one who's powerless to halt fate then._

"Julius?"

I shook my head. "Coming, dear!"

Centuries passed, then millennia, then tens of them. I applied to skip the remainder of my years at upper school and progress straight to the Fairy Academy, but they rejected me, and I plunged into a time of melancholy that seemed to last forever. Whenever I came home from school, Mona nagged me to get my colony organized. I took it all without complaint, quietly amassing personal funds from working at the Eros Nest. Some went to personal wants like my new eighteen-drawered desk (with Ilisa's sperm and Juandissimo's remaining eggs tucked away in the back of one) while I splurged other funds on magic usage or gifts for Mona.

I participated in Zodii ceremonies, and made time to visit the Water Temple on a regular basis. I painted portraits and landscapes. I sketched. I formed a close friendship with Jasmine (who read my emotions very well, thank you), and on days when I felt particularly humble, I visited with the therapist Holly Applespark. Charming dame. I almost didn't hate her.

I attended a few weddings, a few funerals, and made more time for my friends. I mastered fidchell, cricket, and croquet. I alternated between my research and reading for fun. I greeted the Head Pixie each time he visited the Blue Castle, and looked after his young pixies whenever I was asked to. I struggled to rekindle my long-broken friendship with Electro, and never grew any more fond of his irritating voice or dreadful humour. I spoke with Ashley about my mother and his. I ate white chocolate every time its presence graced my path. I chatted with, teased, and nearly preened another gyne at school, although he bailed out the morning of.

And… I finally received word from Dm. Charite herself that Lohai had come of age to breed. They planned to do so within the week, and would I like to sit in the control room and see the screens?

Of course, I was thrilled to pieces to have the chance to visit her again, for the cherubs had refused me so many times that I had given up asking. But when I arrived at the Nest on the day in question, I found Lohai in a small, sterile chamber, brow bent, her eyes prepared to kill.

"Where  _were_  you all this time?" she screamed, pounding her fists against the glass wall.

I frowned. "'All this time?' How do you mean? I haven't been gone long. Lohai, dear. I believe you may be overreacting. It was only 20,000 years. I doubt you even missed me."

 _"20,000?!"_ she shrieked. Her tail lashed across the polished floor. "I've transitioned from childhood to the prime years of my life. How does 20,000 years mean nothing to you, Papa? If I can keep  _calling_  you 'Papa.'"

"Mm… Don't forget that I am in school. I work two jobs these days - three if you count my commission work - and must balance my research and the attention I give my betrothed on top of that." Sighing, I placed my palms against hers, albeit on the other side of the glass pane. "I missed you every day, my sweet."

"You never came."

"I'm truly sorry, Lohai. I tried to the utmost of my abilities for centuries, but the cherubs insisted. Oh, just look how you've turned out. Such long, beautiful purple hair… Your mother would be delighted. A shining tail, a plump and healthy body…" Folding my arms, I leaned my shoulder against the window. "You've become a fine doe, Lohai, daughter of Liloei. I'm certain the Eros Nest fed, socialized, and exercised you better than I ever could have. I see they've brought you earrings, too. You're lovely. The buck they've selected for you will be a blessed bloke indeed."

Lohai hesitated, her hands sliding down the glass. "He's so old."

"Vesuvius? Yes, I realise that. Shame none of Krakatoa's young bucks survived their first few months. I'd hoped they would." I gazed at her eyes, blinking slowly. "I know it's tough to face your worries, but remember this: Dm. Venus kept you away from me out of stubborn rage, but it's Dm. Charite who decides where pregnant specimens will be transferred. She's taught me what she knows of raising genies, and promised that the moment you've been impregnated, you could come home with me. Then I shall raise you, and look after your candles too. Your worries will all be over soon."

Lohai lowered her head. "Perhaps this is my home now."

"Now, now, dear, I understand you're cross with me… But I've come for you now, so perhaps we can let bygones be bygones, hm?" I tilted my head. "I know you may be hesitant and frightened, but you and I will get through this together, and preserve your species in the process. I'll be watching you the whole time from the screens in the control room. If that Vesuvius troubles you, just yell for me and I shall pop over in a flash. There are sound recorders. I'll hear you."

"Okay…"

Dm. Ludell transferred Lohai from her travel bag into a canister which would pop open in ten minutes' time. This, he gave to a nearby cherub, who flew off to deposit it in a chute that normally delivered food and enrichment to the Nest's genies. Anxiously, I took my place on the control room's couch, notebook in hand, to witness the event unfold.

Shortly after Lohai emerged from her time-operated canister, the two genies in the enclosure noticed her. Krakatoa observed silently from her place in the tree limbs, green tail winding around a branch. Vesuvius, however, drifted very near Lohai and hovered there, his head inquisitively to one side.

"A rose-tail?"

Lohai dropped her gaze and rubbed her arm. "Yes, sir."

My hands gripped my knees. Vesuvius circled her from a wingspan away, his tongue poking out from the left side of his lips. "Well, aren't you a pretty thing?"

Lohai turned around, following his movements with her head. "These are my natural looks, sir. I only make an effort for those who truly catch my fancy."

"Calling me 'Sir?' I like that." He chuckled, almost purring, with his purple tail twisting and twirling in loops at its tip. "Though, it's not a very effective way of keeping me off, is it?"

"Oh, so you're a gentlebuck too, are you?"

Vesuvius winked and folded his arms behind his head. His bare chest protruded. "Not in the traditional sense."

At that, Lohai snorted. "Then we're both lucky my father didn't raise me to be a traditional doe."

"Ooh, I like you." The end of his tail probed innocently against hers before it found a hold. Vesuvius twirled the two together in a loose knot. "What say we continue this conversation in a more scenic location?"

Lohai's shoulders started to relax. She studied their tails, twitching her tip, and then held out her hand to him with the palm turned down. "What say we do?"

I'd hoped he'd kiss the back of Lohai's wrist and sweep her off her metaphorical feet. But, Vesuvius simply grabbed her forearm and yanked her towards the opposite end of the enclosure, behind a screen of boulders and yellow desert plants. Lohai laughed, though whether from nerves or delight, I couldn't tell. They vanished, but the glow of her tail identified their location. Krakatoa yawned and turned her face away, settling down to nap. Bright flashes of colour flickered along the edges of the rocks, and I heard soft noises of tentative exploration from our excitable couple already. I pressed one knuckle to my lips. That certainly hadn't taken long. I'd expected them to at least make proper introductions.

I suppose I was the last one who ought to judge such things. I rotated the viewing angle around to the more… energetic side of the rocks, and Dm. Charite released an arrow through the screen. It hit Lohai in the place her thigh would be, though she and Vesuvius were so busy rubbing heads that they didn't notice.

Their brief courtship rapidly progressed to bodies coiling and constricting, and then to mating. I stayed the whole time, glancing at them occasionally as I paged through several texts and scrolls that detailed the nature of the honey-lock. When after several hours the two genies slithered sluggishly apart, they sunned themselves atop the red rocks. Vesuvius sprawled on his back, making obscene gestures at the camera. Lohai lay curled on her side, her head buried in her arms so I couldn't see her face. I didn't like the way her shoulders shook.

Dm. Charite dismissed me, so I hurried down with one of the cherubs to the genie enclosure. Through the glass, I could see her trembling harder now, so I begged the cherub let me rush to see her. At first he was reluctant, but I… persuaded him to the point that he allowed it. With the press of a button, he let me in through a few airlocked doors which transitioned me inside the "lamp" of the three genies. Vesuvius and Krakatoa both snapped to attention when I came through the door, but I ignored them and flew across the chamber to Lohai's side.

"Lohai? It's your papa. I'm here now. Are you all right? Forgive me for not arriving earlier. It seemed you were doing fine."

Lohai lifted her head, her thick purple hair falling across her eyes. Vesuvius had torn most of it from her usual pegasustail.

"… Let's get you home." I scooped my arms beneath her back and lifted her with care. Lohai pressed her forehead to my neck, and I gently kissed her hair. Vesuvius watched in cat-like silence. I said nothing at all to him, but when I turned around, my hackles stood on end. Krakatoa had left her tree. She floated between me and the door, her hand resting on his knob.

"Excuse me," I said, walking towards her anyway. "I need to get through."

"Hmm… What do you think, Vesy?" Krakatoa lay a single finger to her cheek and looked me up and down. "He'd make a handsome genie buck, wouldn't he? At least for a few hours."

"Or a pretty blue doe," Vesuvius said from behind. I heard him snaking towards me through the grass, and my ears twitched back. Regardless, I clutched Lohai tight, staring at the green-tailed genie hard.

"I have no business with you, Krakatoa. Let me through."

"Oh, poxrot," she sighed, leaning both her shoulders against the door behind her. "Don't I get to have a little fun? It's been so dull in here, with only  _that_  brute for company."

Lohai tightened her grip on my shirt. My fur bristled. I bared my fangs and extended my wings in full. "Excuse us. I'd like to pass through."

Something hard and fast slapped my rear end. I leapt forward. Vesuvius? I whirled around to glare at him, and he grabbed my face in his hands. His teeth spread in a wicked grin. "The mother of my eldest candle made a request of you, fur-face. Don't you know how to treat a doe?"

I kicked him in the stomach without batting an eye, only for Krakatoa to wrap her arms around my torso and draw me against her body. My head fit perfectly between her uncovered breasts, but I didn't allow it to stay for long. I  _poof_ ed several wingspans to her left, and was just patting myself on the back when I realised my mistake.

"Oh no."

Lohai hadn't  _poof_ ed along with me. She landed in the prickly grass, startled and shaking. Krakatoa and Vesuvius leered over her, their tails slithering forward to grip hers…

"No!" I launched myself forward, but with a snap of her fingers, Krakatoa summoned inky black chains from the wall that grabbed my limbs and yanked me back. Vesuvius snapped his, and both my wands appeared in his hand.

"Perhaps I'll take a turn with her," Krakatoa laughed, and reached for Lohai's hand.

"Leave her alone," I yelped, tugging at my chains. Before the two does could touch, the chamber door behind them slid open. Dm. Venus floated out, her bow drawn.

"Let them go, you filthy djinn."

"Aw…" Krakatoa twirled a curl of black hair around her finger. "We were only playing, boss. We haven't had a new stimulus to entertain us for years."

Vesuvius, however, spat in the grass. "Fleck off, scrawny-butt. Even in our  _en lamp_  state, we're a trillion times closer to god-like powers than you'll ever be."

Before he even finished, Dm. Venus fired an arrow directly between his eyes. It hit. Vesuvius rolled backwards, hissing in pain and holding his face. I gasped. So did Krakatoa. Releasing both Lohai and I instantly, she flashed to Vesuvius' side and wrapped herself around him, guarding him like a mother ursa. My chains fell away. I dropped to my knees in the grass. Dm. Venus sniffed, turned her back on the genies, and lowered her bow in the same movement. Krakatoa made no move to seek revenge, and only bent her head to nuzzle her whimpering mate's face.

"Leave," Dm. Venus said to me as she walked towards the chamber door, not looking my way. I grabbed my fallen wands and sheathed them both, then rushed to Lohai's side. The uncertain  _Thank you_  rested on my lips, but I didn't dare voice it. Lohai clung to me in silence, her tail winding around my arm.

Once the three of us were in the transition chamber, I lowered Lohai to the floor and cradled her head in my hands. Before I could even speak, she burst into tears.

"I tried to be brave for you! But Papa, he was  _weird_. He was old and gross and I- I…"

I lay my finger against her cheek and swallowed hard. "Oh there, there, Lohai… I'm so sorry you had to do that. We won't turn to him again. Should you ever wish to have another litter, I shall seek you out a buck who better meets your qualifications. I swear it."

She wiped her hand across her face. "May I have some cloths? I wish to wash myself off."

I searched my pockets and found my handkerchief, which I gave her. Dm. Venus was tapping her foot, so we wasted no more time than that. Lohai crawled into her travel bag. I zipped it shut and stood. Dm. Venus tapped the exit code into the panel by the door, then pointed for me to step into the hall. Without speaking, I did. Lohai and I went home to the Castle, and I did not return to work again.

The five years of Lohai's pregnancy were dreadfully long ones. Though her belly remained flat for some time, she lost her ability to float as though weighed down by the litter inside, and she slithered through the soil in her tank the way a serpent does. In the early days she dehydrated rapidly as the water she drank was moved to her inner stores, but as the years went by and one particular segment of her body swelled, she stopped drinking altogether. Stopped eating too, evidently content to survive off her own body fat for years to come.

I'd given Lohai small plants and a plastic dome to hide in, but she rejected them, and paced in anxious circles until Mona had the idea to give her an enormous quilt. She loved it so much, she vanished beneath it and wouldn't come out again even if you called for her. Even when I crouched low and strained to see beneath the fabric's edge, I could only make out Lohai lying very still, her glowing eyes wide and wild like a frightened creature. Silent. Unmoving. You wouldn't have known she was there at all if you didn't, erm… know she was there. I was in my study more than I was out of it, hovering over her every spare moment until she snapped at me to, ah… Well, to remove myself. Let's put it that way, ahaha…

"You're certainly chipper this morning," Mona observed when she caught me in the hall one Naming Day's eve. Jasmine sat at her feet, chewing unhappily at her shoulder. Around her neck, the cat sith wore a collar of green and white bells.

"Ah, can you blame me?" Grabbing Mona, I swung her in two circles and laughed aloud. "In spirit, I'm going to be a father again! Oh, think of it! Soon enough I'll be raising baby genies once more! How delightful! This time, I shall be even better at it than I was with Lohai."

Mona couldn't help but chuckle at my enthusiasm too. When I released her hands, she set them to her waist. "You really can't wait until we have a pup of our own, can you?"

"Oh hoh hoh~! Not just  _one_  pup, Mona darling." Grabbing her wrist, I yanked her towards me. "I wish for a whole bundle of them!" My mouth went to her neck, kissing fiercely. My arms slid beneath her wings, and I pressed her to the wall. "Three in my arms, four on my back, one in my pouch, one on my head, six or seven more running beneath your skirts-"

"Julius," she shrieked, collapsing in giggles, and I growled into her ear.

"I'll make a fine wife of you yet, woman. But for now, I shall merely chase you to the forest's edge, grab your fur in my fists, throw myself upon you, take your face in my hands and… Oh."

"What's wrong?"

"A-ah…" My cheeks cooled, and I shifted my attention up to Mona's face. She looked curious, and… perhaps a bit hurt that I had stopped my merry jesting. Jasmine reached up a forepaw to rest against my leg. My ears flipped back. "I, um… I see the ways of adulthood have come upon you sometime in the last few days."

"… Is that going to end this?"

"No, no, it's just…" Hissing through my fangs, I released her and took my elbow in my hand. "We… can't really play anymore. Until I come into my adulthood, it isn't allowed."

We stood an awkward moment, our wings both spread and low behind us. I couldn't help but notice how much wider Mona's wingspan was than mine now. And the pleasing roundness of her chest…

"You'll get taller once Fairy-Cosmo moults into his adult body," Mona said encouragingly. "You'll like that."

I glanced towards the nearest doorway, my throat closing over. "I'm sorry," I choked out, and after scooping up Jasmine, I fled without another word. Jasmine might have voiced a thought, but I wasn't listening. Rather, I found my mum patrolling the stretch of land between the woods and the Castle's gate. Good. I flew to them, wrapped my arms around them from behind, and clung to their back like the sorry sobbing child I was.

"Julius," they snapped, twisting to get a better look at me. Grabbing my leg, they pulled me in front of them. "Your betrothed came into her adulthood unusually  _early_  for an Anti-Fairy. Your own growth is progressing at a perfectly average rate. Stop salting the fields with your whiny tears and hike up your britches."

"Sh-she's going to leave me for another early-changing drake, a-and she's going to give herself to him, and I'm going to be her second choice-"

Mum  _whapp_ ed me between the ears with the end of their staff (Jasmine sprang back in alarm). When I fell silent and looked at them, holding my head, they threw their arms out to both sides. "There are other ways to please a damsel. By this point in your life, I should  _hope_ you've figured out how to use that long tongue. It serves more purposes than sipping nectar."

I squeaked, pressing my cheeks inward. "But- I can't! Mona, she's-  _grown._  We can't kiss anymore, and we certainly can't progress to- to a  _further_  relationship at this time. Such things are nontraditional!"

"Only in public. I know you're smart enough to keep your big mouth shut."

 _"Mother,"_  I wailed, curling my legs towards my chest. "I'm underage! This isn't behaviour you ought to condone! I'm not even allowed to be sociosexual with her anymore, and what if we have a fight, and what if I forget it's forbidden and I fall into my instincts, and what if we get caught, and what if Anti-Bryndin throws me out-"

They swung at me with their staff again, and I barely  _foop_ ed to the side in time, near where Jasmine perched upon a stone statue's knee. "Don't you  _dare_  lose that dame, Julius. That's the only thing I can say."

I stared at her, huffing softly, then launched myself in the air and flew towards Luna's Landing. I didn't have a particular destination in mind, but I couldn't be near the Castle for the moment. I shoved away my tears with the flat of my hand, and spurred my wings ever faster.

I was barely 149,000. A Fairy could moult into his adult wings any time between the ages of 140,000 and 180,000, with society making a steady creep towards later years.

30,000 potential years without Mona's kisses? Could I  _live_ like that?

Soon enough, I found myself coasting over the ruins of the Anti-Eros tower, and I paused a moment to stare at the glowing green wall in the distance, which so harshly divided us from our Fairy kin.

"We really are their opposites," I muttered to myself, folding my arms so I might grip my shoulders. "I'd wager a Fairy wouldn't care if he was denied access to his lover's lips. Anti-Fairies breed all year round, but just a skip across the border, their people are only in heat a short while every several centuries… Then what? Do they just… live dumb, happy lives in their little married units with a partner they have no interest in singing to? Decade upon decade upon decade, never once desiring a lover's passionate touch upon bare skin? Where's the joy in that?" I sighed and clenched my upper arms more tightly. "Oh, I wonder if Fairy-Cosmo has yet kissed a damsel or drake. But I imagine the waiting game is so much easier for him."

Funny. Once upon a time, I as Ilisa would have begged for a break from kisses. Yet here I was a single incarnation later, a bratty child who never had enough…

… I think I'd have left my birth colony that day and never returned, if I hadn't had Lohai waiting for me. Jasmine too, I suppose.

If I didn't wish to engage in secret acts with Mona, and I didn't wish to go without affections for long, that left me with but one more option: Seek out a new romantic partner who'd yet to come into their grown body. And I could have- don't get me wrong. Between my large fang size and my brilliant brains, I was a prime target for smooching, despite my short stature and the lowness of my crown. Someone out there would have taken me had I asked, I'm sure.

But… I didn't want to take another partner. I wanted Mona. Mona understood me in a way no other creature did. We'd shared secret thoughts, and teased and fondled one another many a time. Though we'd yet to engage in the full measure of adult bonding acts, I knew I'd feel more comfortable doing so with her than I'd ever feel in a stranger's arms. My entire life, I'd planned to give myself to Mona first. She deserved that much.

So I wept a few pitiful tears, and resigned myself to wait. Fine. Since adult passions were off limits, and kisses upon the lips were socially unacceptable prior the first century of courtship, I'd throw myself into sociosexual exchanges with my peers whenever appropriate, and try to pretend our society's innocent touches meant something more…

On my way back to the Castle, I flew six loop-the-loops above Luna's Landing when all of a sudden, I noticed a small figure with golden, feathered wings and short, curly hair sitting on the domed roof of the Love Temple, her knees pulled to her chest. Breaking from my dive, I flew curiously on my belly to get a better look at her.

"Oh. It's you, friend." I wasn't sure calling her "Dame Artemis" on this plane would be appropriate. Stuffing my hands beneath my armpits, I said, "After I freed you from the Eros Nest, I thought you went back to the High Kingdom. Was the cheery moorland not to your satisfaction?"

Dame Artemis was still a child, even after these 20,000 years. She turned her head slightly, and lowered her knees so her feet dangled just a mite over the curve of the dome. Her arms remained folded, but only loosely. She wore silver robes instead of the typical purple or pink the dames of her species were known for. When I caught a good look at the dark circles around her eyes, I confess I did a double-take. For smoke's sake, she looked as though she hadn't slept for a decade!

"… I'm not being bad. I just came here to look."

I glanced at the city below us, its streets lined with glowing crystals. "Me too, really. May I keep you company?"

"Plenty of room."

The dome was slippery crystal, but I managed to sit beside her and lean back on my hands. I looked at the stars high above, and at the dark shadow of Plane 9 far above our heads, while Dame Artemis stared downward.

"So is this really where Ellie dropped the moon or something?" she asked.

"You mean Helena, the Bringer of Doom? Anti-Fairies believe so. I don't know about Refracts like you; your ilk tend to be Daoist. See the cliffs here around the city?" I traced a circle in the air, beginning at one point and sweeping in an arc halfway around. "Luna's Landing rests in a crater. According to legend, when Helena stole the second sun from Princess Eve, she carried it as high as she could, but it singed her gloveless hands, and she had to let it drop. Anti-Fairies believe she was here on Plane 8 when that happened, so this crater was the first place the moon touched as it plunged. Early settlers built an outpost at the very spot, and called it after the event."

"That little dent's too small to be made by the moon."

"Heh… I suppose. Perhaps it really is just a story. But if that's the case, one must ask oneself how a crater came to be in a landscape of clouds impervious to meteor strikes, hm?" I gave the child a longer sideways glance, studying the profile view I had of her face. Her nose was beak-like, her mouth a hard line. "That's a lovely necklace you have there."

Dame Artemis blinked and looked down. A sun-shaped pendant swung from a silver chain around her neck. She lifted it in her palm and clenched her teeth. "Yeeeeah… Not once you find out why I wear it."

"Oh? Steal it from an ancient tomb, did you? Take it from a hungry widow? Murder an innocent child? Sell your firstborn?"

She turned the pendant over in her hands, frowning further. "Something worse."

"…?"

Dame Artemis leaned back her head. "Well, actually two things worse. I kissed a damsel, and I punched a deity." Shrugging, she let it fall back against her chest. "I'm not sure which I'm being punished for, but it doesn't come off my neck now… Hee hee… Dame Artemis can't sleep anymore… The sun's too bright when she closes her eyes…"

I pulled my hands to my chest, curling in my arms, and leaned away. "You challenged a  _nature spirit_  in combat?"

She frowned and hugged her knees once again. "It wasn't really combat? She was being a real thorn in the tail feathers, so I smashed her in the jaw while she was talking forever and then walked off. But I'm almost positive I'm being punished for the kissing thing, not the punching. Kheh. It's dumb. Refracts aren't like Anti-Fairies. My people don't take well to dames who kiss other dames. Word got around, so Auntie had no choice but to throw me out… Can't join a flock of drakes, can't join a flock of damsels…" Dame Artemis slipped her pendant in her mouth and sucked on the golden points that represented the rays of the sun. I swung my hands down, palms facing.

"I feel like there were probably less drastic options you could have taken before you _struck a powerful ancient being in the face."_

"Heh," she said sleepily. "Fighting's the only language she understands, though… Pity… Maybe if it wasn't, I could charm her when I'm grown up. Gotta fight her… She doesn't listen if you don't… Golly, I'm  _so_  tired… I just want to sleep…"

I shook my head in disbelief. Leaving the strange child to her thoughts, I flew back to the Castle with the intent to bundle beside Ashley for a long night. As I went, I held my shoulders with tight hands. For a time I thought about children, then the development of Mona's body, and the amount of time I had left before Anti-Bryndin chased me from the colony, and what the Head Pixie had said about inheritance rights in the Fairy legal system, and when upon my return I found Jasmine waiting on the Castle's front steps, I told her with a growl that I'd thought about nothing at all.


	24. The Bar Code

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Julius lists the twenty animal families honored by Anti-Fairies, assume the twenty animals are prehistoric creatures, but they're presented as modern animals for the reader's benefit. I decided to have mercy on you all.

  _In which Lohai bears her candles in the Year of the Crippled Tern, and Julius comes of age_

* * *

_They'd nearly finished with the motions, but not her needs. With a primal lunge, Amarilla pressed her lips to his- this time longer, deeper. And when they touched, she understood everything. A volcano of words and algorithms exploded for a wingbeat, and then as they shifted and she leaned in further, she tasted technical terms from old court cases. Around them she detected the creak of wood, the settling of stone, and they shared magic without hesitations or barriers. All of this smothered her until after an eternity she fell gasping out of it, and was left to cling to the blankets, shivering beside the pixie as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position._

_"Oh," he said simply._

_Yes. Oh, indeed. And she knew then and there in that dinky apartment room that Rhoswen syndrome was real, that Cupid preferred to tip his arrows in cruelty, not desire, and she would never be satisfied with an overly cheerful and free-spirited Fairy again._

_"You know," she said after a moment of lying with him, "I never even got your name."_

_He was already buttoning his [trousers] up again. "'Mister' will do. The Head Pixie named us all 'Mister.'"_

_"But what if I want to see you again?" Amarilla whimpered. "You all look alike. How will I know?"_

_After a moment's pause, he brought her wing to his teeth. "You'll know because of this."_

_And then, reader, he notched her wings. She thought the pattern beautiful- intricate as yarn. He worked his way along her costa, obviously familiar with how to move his teeth, and when one wing was done she switched to the other, and then he pulled the apexes of his own towards his mouth, and notched those too…_

_"Yes," Amarilla whispered. "I'll know you now."_

_He walked her to the edge of the woods, because the Head Pixie's rules were law, and that was as far as he was allowed to go at this time of eve. He shook her hand rather than kissing her farewell. They parted ways there, and every night for centuries naive Amarilla sought him out at midsummer festivals and New Year celebrations, trying to sort her pixie out from among a thousand others, but she never found him again…_

I leaned back in the library chair, holding the book to my chest with its pages still pinned open with a claw. "Oh, that's a lovely ending, isn't it, Jasmine? Say what you will about Ivorie and the exaggerated accents she gives her Anti-Fairies, but she writes the finest pixie characters in all the cloudlands. I especially liked this one… She put a twist on the usual image of a stiff and prudish pixie by making him curious and experimental. Given how popular she is with the older crowd, I wouldn't be surprised if that archetype catches on, hm?"

Jasmine stretched on my lap, uncurling her tongue when she yawned. Her tail flipped in a lazy way, and her toes came apart when she reached her forelegs out. "Mm… I do enjoy it when you read romance novels. Your emotions taste so pleasant, it almost puts me in the mood to find a lover of my own."

"It does, doesn't it? Maybe it's time I gave her Anti-Fairy tales another try… Or perhaps I could try my own hand at this writing game. Yes, I might enjoy that immensely!"

Closing the book, I returned it to Anti-Elina's private shelf in the third-floor reading room and flew back to my study. We were sixteen days into the New Year, and I was expecting Lohai's candles any day. I checked in on her, but all was silent in her terrarium. I turned instead to my desk, where I drew out a fresh scroll and a new bottle of ink. When I sat, Jasmine sprang into my lap and curled up again, tail tip curled above her nose. I thus began to write my first story to ever grace parchment.

_His name was Anti-Lumire, hers was Anti-Spark, and they were greatly in love even though their colonies were rivals who argued constantly over the same river. Their first night together happened near a small pond. They roosted in a milbark tree which overlooked the sparkling water. The plan had been sociosexual behaviour to soothe ruffled feelings about this river that their colonies argued over. Neither of them had expected it to progress to courtship, yet here they were._

_Anti-Lumire kissed Anti-Spark once, then again, and then some more. She also kissed him, and took off his shirt (which was very difficult because of his wings) and he kissed her again. She laughed and kissed him too. They continued kissing as they removed the rest of their clothes, and he sang to her beneath the stars by that very river which had brought them together in the first place._

I held the small scroll up to stare at for a moment, then sighed and crumpled it into a ball. I tossed it over my shoulder, where it landed in my rubbish bin beneath my latest painting of Anti-Fergus' rustic cabin (its door repaired, the porch mended), which featured a peryton buck in the foreground and Dragondrool Mountain in the rear. My face dropped into my hands.

"How dreadfully uninspiring. If only I knew how to tell a story that could draw a reader in and steal the mind away. Alas, I passed my younger years painting places literally anyone can  _poof_  over and visit in a wingbeat's time. Even Ilisa left the majority of  _Origin of the Will o' the Wisps_  for Henry Bates to tell. Now that's a lark. I couldn't even write my own history in an engaging way. How pathetic is that?"

Crossing my arms tight, I pushed my chair back on two legs and stared at the painting of the cabin for a long while. Sometimes I enjoyed crafting places from my imagination. Perhaps I'd visited them in my Ilisa years, or perhaps I'd invented them all. Either way, as I painted, I liked to create stories in my head. I imagined drakes who wooed damsels beneath the ulk trees, or children who splashed about in the river. But when I painted, their stories were only that. Ideas. Glimpses. Stillness. Not something multifaceted and alive, something people discussed in reading clubs and wrote secret stories about to trade with their classmates at school, something that touched people for years instead of days…

"Ach," I muttered to myself, dropping the chair back on all fours. "If only I could write a romantic tale that would last forever. I think I'd be happy then."

"Don't sell yourself short, Julius. You have so many other talents."

"Yes.  _Painting…_  Perhaps I'll just have to live my fantasies in person instead of writing them down. I do hope I come into my adulthood sooner rather than later. I hate to keep Mona waiting long." I stared at the painting for another moment, then opened one of the drawers in my desk to examine the sperm and eggs from long ago, still encased in their frozen bubble. I tapped a claw against my teeth. "I must admit, I surprise even myself with my restraint. It won't be long now before I can produce the proper frequency of magic to fertilise this humble Fairy child. Of course I'll need a surrogate parent to place it in… I have one in mind, and I think he shan't refuse."

Jasmine yawned again. "Congratulations. Fatherhood has been so long in coming, so this time of your life must be very exciting for you. What will your new dream be once you become one?"

"I…" I pressed one finger to my lips. "I don't know. I've spent my entire life waiting anxiously to grow up so I might raise pups of my own. While they sleep for the night, or once they grow up… I don't know then what I'll do with myself. Oh my smoke." My hands went for my hair. "I  _don't_   _know."_

"You'll find something that calls to you," Jasmine told me kindly, resting her paw against my stomach.

"But suppose I don't! Suppose I never do! Suppose I live the rest of my life in lethargic boredom like a dairy yale chewing cud!"

"You'll find something," she insisted, though I wasn't sure. An hour passed in silence while I sat and stroked her fur with gentle hands.

 _I'm going to have a drab rest of my life, aren't I?_ I turned my head towards the door, thinking of Mona, who was away this month visiting her mums at her birth colony. I pursed my lips.  _She'll be a wonderful mother, so patient with our pups, prompt and passionate with play, and… precipitately predictable. That's it, then. No more research. No more plans and dreams. No more mysteries. No more thrills. Everything will turn out exactly the way I've planned it, and I'll be caged in the same routine of changing nappies and exchanging Mona's nonexperimental kisses forever. Once I get everything I ever wanted… I won't be happy anymore._

Where was the fun in that?

I stood suddenly, sending Jasmine flopping to the floor with a yelp. "I'm going to do something completely different today."

Jasmine scrambled onto my seat with little dignity, her fur kinked at all angles. "Such as?"

"Do you know that old shed up the hill no one uses anymore? Small, rusted metal?" I made the shape of its rounded roof with my hands. "Well, I'm going to fly up there and summon a full-fledged demon to melt it."

She whipped her head around. "What for?"

"Because I'm terribly bored, and that should be wildly fun, don't you think?"

"But-"

"Jasmine, please." I was already slinging on my coat. "I'll have plenty of water on hand to put out any sparks the demon brings. As I said, no one uses it anymore. No one will even miss it. And I'll ensure it's cleared out first, so there's no danger of it spreading or anyone getting hurt. Now, help me find a few items to channel Sky energy. We'll want plenty of that if we plan to call a Fire demon to counter it."

She relented, but insisted on coming along, so I allowed her to wrap her forelegs around my shoulder with her lower half dangling behind. In the shed, I broke a silver-backed mirror upon the floor, charged a rug I wouldn't miss with the static build-up of Jasmine's fur, and spilled an overabundance of salt to top it all off. The power backlash sent me crashing against the battered door. My wand rattled in my hand. I cracked open a direct doorway to pocketspace, and a grown, solid, ink-black demon with the low-riding body of a reptile and the head of a goat slithered through. Its twisted horns raked the air as it swung its neck from side to side.

"Oh, you're gorgeous," I cried, springing back to my feet. I dusted my coat down with a rapid hand, never lowering my wand. Jasmine clung more tightly to my neck. "Now then, to business! Bring us fire, oh Saturn! Grant me your power and unleash the blaze!"

The demon threw back its head, forelegs kicking, and bayed. Sparks snorted from its nostrils. Jasmine's forelegs squeezed. Together, we watched the shed melt to the ground, and laughed and clapped together, or at least I did, before I released the demon back to where it had come. Then I heated a kettle over the flames. Now that was  _much_  more fun than painting!

Two days after I had my fun with the shed, I returned to my study and found my ears assaulted with pathetic mewling sounds. I pricked up. Shutting the door behind Jasmine, I flew to peer inside Lohai's glass bin. It had a mesh roof, because you can put genies inside boxes with holes in their lids so long as the holes are too small for the genie to leave with their natural body. Sure enough, my darling rose had crawled out from under the quilt to wait for me. She sat with her shoulders back, a look of pride upon her face. When I came over, she disappeared beneath the quilt, then returned with a single candle in her arms. This, she held up to me. The indigo-tailed baby had a few curls of purple hair, and blinked its blind eyes unhappily. As it squirmed, it mewled again.

"Lohai," I said when I found my voice. I pressed my fingers to my cheek. "Oh, your candle is lovely, darling. How many are there?"

"Oooone," she said, unconvincingly. Holding the indigo baby to her chest, she took up a defensive position between me and the quilt, and warily regarded me.

"Mm… It's awfully noisy in there for one candle, isn't it?"

The squeaks and mewls rose in pitch beneath the blanket as the other candles struggled to find their mother. Lohai lowered her baby to a shallow scoop she'd dug in the dirt and coals. "I suppose there might be more… I'll check. I can show them to you, Papa. But you can't steal them away."

"Of course not, darling."

Lohai watched me for a few seconds more, then flicked beneath the quilt. She carried her candles out one at a time, laying each of them in the scoop and always checking my reaction before she went to get the next. At last, she sat down in the scoop herself and wrapped her tail loosely around her babies. Nearly a dozen blind doughy blobs with wispy tails in various shades between rose and purple rubbed at her stiff belly, prodding and whining. I bit my bottom lip when I noticed one of them was so pale pink, it could easily be considered white. Lohai kept particular attention on that one.

"Eight," I breathed. "Itty bitty little stripes like string… I always did like string. Fine work, Lohai. Good for you."

Her shoulders squirmed. "Julius, I don't know what to do next."

"Feed them, I think."

"Feed them what?"

"Er… Probably milk." A sudden realisation slapped across my face. I'd mothered hundreds, if not thousands, of children when I was Ilisa. And yet I'd only ever nursed nine of them. Enling. Fennel. Lyrica. Taggert. Jan. Rupert. Kace. Leander.

I placed one hand atop the bin's mesh lid the same moment Jasmine came closer to see what the fuss was about, but Lohai bared her teeth. "Don't touch them! I love them."

My hand paused. Lohai tightened her tail's coil, yanking the candles against her stomach. She hunkered over them.

"Away, Papa! Cat! In the Nest, I was warned that first-time genie mothers often lose many of their litter before weaning. Your skin is cold and I don't want to take any risks. Not yet."

In reluctant agreement, I lowered my hand to my lap. Jasmine tactfully withdrew to my desk chair and began to groom her whiskers (muttering "Cat _sith"_ behind her paw). "Let's see now. We'll need to keep you lot plenty warm. And the candles will have an easier time keeping their temperature up if we leave them all together for now… Of course, eventually they will need to be separated."

Lohai nudged one of the outer candles closer to her stomach, resting her hand on his sticking-up rear. "How long until you move them to their own lamps?"

"Mm… Nine months is advisable."

"Oh." Lohai's head drooped. Her tail tightened further. "But I love them."

"They can visit sometimes. But for their physical and mental health, they ought to be given their own space." I cleared my throat. "We don't want them… hurting one another." Or breeding one another once they were grown.

She studied the candles nuzzling blindly at her belly, and slowly settled down to suckle them. I watched her carefully. In the wild, genie mothers were incredibly vulnerable. The early part of their pregnancy was spent roaming in search of food and water, which would aid their milk production during the sluggish lactating years (with light always being their main source of energy). Towards the end of pregnancy, a doe sought a secluded location to birth her litter, such as a large knothole high in a tree, beneath a warm house, or, well… inside a lamp. There she would stay, seeking no food for herself, and keeping watch for predators as her magic slowly returned. Within a month, her candles would have the strength and curiosity to venture from the nest, though they would return to nurse until their mother regained her strength. After that, well… depending on the size of the genie population in the area, it might not be long before another male took interest in her. The more difficult challenge was keeping him from casually killing all her baby bucks.

"About that white-tail you have there," I began.

"Sick," Lohai muttered.

"No. I'm sure that between the two of us, we'll save it. When would you like to give them names?"

She remained silent for a moment, her eyes closed. "I like Foop," she finally said.

"Foop?" Of course I'd heard the word used for the star-pelted wolves who had once roamed Mars alongside her people in days long ago, but never for a genie. "That's… a very fine name. I like it. Which one is Foop, then?"

"The indigo with the purple hair," she murmured, the tip of her tail wrapping around her white-tailed candle. "Leave me now… I'm resting."

"All right, Lohai." I stood, gazing down at the string-like blobs fighting over her teats… and my core ached.

_In a few years, I turn 150,000. To Anti-Fairies this marks adulthood, but to a genie or a Fairy, my mentality would still be considered childish… I'm so young, aren't I, yet always pining my time away in anticipation of becoming a father. Maybe someday, you and I shall raise our offspring side by side, my dear… or perhaps I shall raise mine alongside your children… or your grandchildren._

My eyes stung at the possibility of mourning the doe I'd raised while I was hardly in the prime of my life. Yet such things were our fate. And they were decided. Even with all our magic, we were powerless to change that.

… Or at least that's what the Fairies had told us. After the lies we'd been fed regarding Anti-Fairy reproduction and the inevitability of the honey-lock, who knew what else they were hiding?

That same evening, I was called down with the other drakes of my creche to be given the talk regarding Anti-Fairy adulthood. Anti-Buster met us in the juvenile roosting room, and the damsels gathered with Anti-Elina downstairs. I clung to my perch on one of the array's lower branches, between Ashley and Electro, snuggled in my wings like a caterpillar in a cocoon. We first discussed the nature of the honey-lock (Read it), then the Anti-Fairy reproductive system (Mastered that), the importance of song (Not my strongest point), and dangers of karma drinking and kiff-tying before we were older and specifically trained to do it safely (Not my cup of tea anyway), and finally the history of our people in the first place. I perked up.

"I can tell the story of Evadne and Ione, Anti-Buster!"

He glanced at me, then fluttered his hand in my direction. "As you wish, sir."

Rustling my wings, I said, "Evadne and Ione were two ancient lovers of different genera - Evadne an early ancestor of modern Refracts known as a Trooping Fae, Ione an early Solitary Fae - who could not pair to express their love. A dear tragedy! Centuries passed in this way, and in their lovesick desperation, they tricked the zodiac spirits into revealing the power of the kiff-tie. At last they could bond as the spirits do, with one soul wielding whole control of the other's body… But Dayfry took offense at what he interpreted as lustful greed, and struck all fae from Plane 23 because of it."

Smiling ruefully, I spread my hands. "And here we are now. Once in the lower levels of the cloudlands, our ancestors mingled with the native peoples there. The chimera were an advanced race, of course, and built many of the ancient castles that still litter our world today, particularly in the Hush World. Ruins now. As is proper for our people, our families honour the animal forms our early ancestors took, and we humbly choose to limit the forms we shapeshift into to prove we haven't forgotten our roots."

"Thank you, sir. You've summed it up quite nicely. To this day-"

"Of course, with so many generations separating us from our ancestors, maintaining perfect genealogies would be impossible, and so these days, we've settled into a simpler system: Through Anti-Shylinda's journal, we have written record of twenty chimera known to have watched over early Domestic Fae who settled the area, as well as the Solitary Fae who lived on with the Domestics. We call those chimera families 'caretaker spirits' now, and at birth every pup is presented with two paths to follow - the spirit of his mother's line, or the spirit of his father's - which in turn determines which family name he takes upon himself."

"… Yes, thank you, Julius. As far as we know-"

"Those twenty animals are, of course, the hound, the fox, the bison, the rhino, the vulture, the crow, the otter, the badger, the rat, the salamander, the crockeroo, the hog, the monkey, the cricket, the cobra, the goat, the moose, the armadillo, the penguin, and the swan." I offered a modest wave of my hand before tucking it beneath my arm again, toes shifting along my roosting branch. "I'm descended from Her Glory Cadmea, the Teumessian Fox who balances Laelaps, who is of course the caretaker of the Anti-Coppertalon line."

Anti-Buster fixed me with a steady gaze. "Thank you, Julius."

"No trouble at all, Anti-Buster. Glad I could be of assistance."

He exhaled and turned away. "Julius is correct. Even now, we honour the chimeras who gave the ancient fae food and shelter in the early days. Anti-Shylinda named several of these ancestral families in her journal, but only three surnames have survived until today. We of course exclude the Anti-Coppertalons, who took their name from Anti-Shylinda herself, and the von Strangle family, seeing as their line swore allegiance to the Fairy Elder, and took their family name from her. Would someone care to name these three direct lines?"

"Fernfire, Whimsifinado, and Sparklefield," I recited. Anti-Buster glanced at me again.

"That's correct, but it's more respectful to raise your hand than to blurt your answers out, sir."

"My apologies, General."

After the meeting, I was returning to my study to get a book for Ashley when I realised my door was open. Jasmine shot from the room in a blur, but Ashley was faster. He stuck out his foot and tripped her. She went sprawling and crashed in a heap at Mona's feet.

"WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN YOUR MOUTH?" I shrieked, every tuft of fur bushing in spines.

Jasmine winced, her own fear response flaring in parallel as my mood overwhelmed her senses. Setting the white-tailed candle between her forepaws, she said, "I am your emotion-reading companion second, a cat sith first. It's my  _job_  to carry souls to the afterlife, Julius."

"Give her back." I came towards her. Jasmine slunk to one side, crouched low.

"The white-tails always die young. You're only delaying the inevitable."

"I can save her. Give her back."

Jasmine twitched her whiskers, but didn't reply.

"Julius," Mona murmured. When I crouched down, she crouched beside me. "If you don't trust her knowledge, trust mine. And trust yours. We did our research on genies together. You know white-tails don't make it."

"No one's ever cared about genies as much as I have before." I withdrew my demon-handling gloves from an inside pocket of my coat and slipped them on. Everyone said that genies were fragile, and contact with Anti-Fairy body heat (or the lack thereof) was liable to end their lives at once. But I would be careful. I would do this right.

The candle squirmed in my hand, blindly feeling for food. I entered my study alone, and forbade Jasmine from following. She sat outside my door, grooming her ears and pretending that had been her plan all along.

"Lohai?" I asked, peering into her terrarium. My sharp ears could pick up the sound of a tail brushing over dirt. The quilt obscured my view. With one hand, moving slowly, I blocked the bottom of my door with books. The energy field tingled across my fur. I pried the lid from Lohai's bin and reached in to remove the quilt. She whined a low note, like a growl. My darling was small, as she would be until she crossed the invisible barrier between the inside of her lamp to the rest of the room. She rested on her side, very still and quiet, while her candles strained for their turn to suckle at her breasts. I counted them silently. Seven. The white-tail made eight.

"Oh, Lohai… I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry… I shan't allow Jasmine in here without me anymore. I won't let her from my sight again. Ooh, the nerve of her, tearing babies from their mother! I ought to have her crown for that, and I should twist her wings for good measure."

When my voice grew louder, the candles squeaked with fright and curled their tails. I bit my tongue. Lohai struggled to raise her head. "Hhh… The milk-thief?"

"Shh, the cat sith won't bother you anymore. It's all right. I saved her, Lohai."

She groaned and lay herself down again. "Take it away, Papa. I can't… I don't have enough milk. It's a worm, and it's sick."

"What?" I asked, recoiling. I held the candle with both hands, though she easily fit in one. "Lohai, she's your daughter."

"It's a curse come to steal my milk. Take it away and let me alone with the children who can be saved."

I thought for a moment, then opened my forehead dome. Finding the pocket that represented the inner part of my core took a moment of searching, but the child slipped inside easily enough, just as her grandmother Liloei had done thousands of years ago. That would do for now. I'd bottle-feed her later. First, I'd deal with Jasmine.

"Hmm," Anti-Lance said when I described the mess to him a few days later (Anti-Lance was Noon's adult name, for he'd had his ceremony a few cycles ago). I'd left Lohai and the other candles in Mona's care for the evening so I might pinpoint and visit the Anti-Sundive colony. At the moment, Anti-Lance and I were skimming over the shiny black river that wound through Sablewood Canyon, chasing sprites and tiny fish.

"Is that all?" I asked, swooping above him. After I'd sent out a beam of sonar, I pressed, "What do you suppose I ought to do? I'm in love with the candles already, but Lohai won't let me near them, apart from Fade. She lives in constant paranoia that I'll steal her children while she sleeps."

Anti-Lance dipped his claws into the river, but missed the fish he'd been aiming for. "I suppose she needs her space."

"But I don't want to give her space!"

"It's her security." He pinged his sonar off the canyon wall a bit too near my head. "Everyone needs their space."

I burned. Above me, a pair of sprites jeered and blew their tongues. I swerved to catch them, but they darted away with ease. I grazed my stomach across the rock wall, and decided to cling on for a moment to stew in my thoughts. Anti-Lance noticed. With incredible elegance, he performed an overhead loop and caught both sprites in his mouth. When he flew to me, he offered me first pick. I took one from his teeth with mine, but the treat didn't lift my spirits.

"Mm… I've just waited so long to raise offspring that feel like my own, you know what I mean? She's pushing me away from my dreams. Ooh, can you believe her? She doesn't even care for her own child! Doesn't she realise I'd trade anything to bear offspring of my own? Hmph… At least I have Fade. Perhaps Fade shall respect me if she ever chooses to breed."

Anti-Lance flicked the sprite wings from his mouth to his palm. "Have you asked your betrothed why people say the white-tails always die? She's been studying animals since the day her body met smoke, hasn't she?"

"I'll have you know I am equally as knowledgeable as she is when it comes to studying genies, but to answer your question, yes. Mona described white-tails as lacking growth tissue, and has already informed me numerous times that there exists a similar condition among Rhymepyes and the other lagomorph races. At times, it would seem their kits are born undeveloped compared to the rest of their litter. They're known as 'peanuts.'" I rolled my eyes.

"And… the peanuts always die?"

"So it would seem, but Fade is holding on." So saying, I lifted my dome to show him. But all I pulled from my forehead chamber was a small heap of ashes, which clung to my fingertips for days.

… Well.

As the 150,000th year since my birth drew near, my older crechemates began taking on their adult names until my head spun. Electro became Anti-Julian (That's Anti-Julian with a gentle "Hoo" sound at the beginning of the word, in place of the "Juh" I was familiar with myself), and Harold became Anti-Edmin (and never did give up his favourite hat, which matched his robes very well but constantly flopped forward into his eyes). In friendly little groups, my peers broke off to have their coming of age ceremonies. I attended each one I was invited to, smiling through them even when it was obvious I had been the final absentminded pick. But as the Water year drew on, and my own littermates began organizing their ceremonies, sudden panic overtook my thoughts.

"Suppose Mother forbids me from having a traditional one!"

"She won't forbid it," Anti-Kanin assured me. "You can't  _not_  have a ceremony."

Biting my lip, I whimpered, "Suppose th- she whips my little fluffy tail when she finds out I want this. Is it too much? Perhaps we have the modern ceremony for a reason."

"Just ask her," he coaxed. "If she lifts a claw against you, I'll take her on myself."

"The once-greatest warrior in the cloudlands? I think not."

So that night, I decided to try. I wasn't yet permitted in the adult roosting room, so I caught my mum in the corridor just outside it instead.

"Mother, I wanted to ask you if-"

"Be quick," they grumbled, running both hands down their dress. "You know I don't like you bothering me."

I swallowed and smoothed my ears. "I- I'm 150,000 years old. I was wondering… Instead of the modern practice, may I have a traditional coming-of-age ceremony?"

They looked at me as though they expected dragons to sprout from my ears. "Gracious, you honestly expect the High Count and Countess to waste our colony's funds so you can feel  _pretty_  for a night?" If they'd had their staff, they likely would have smacked me. "For Rhoswen's sake, child, you're such a wasteful goat. You don't need any ceremony at all to become an adult."

My jaw dropped. "No ceremony whatsoever? But all my friends have had-"

"Then perhaps you should ask  _their_  parents to contribute the funds. I'm certainly not in a position to make demands of our gracious creche father."

"Anti-Florensa?" Anti-Bryndin called on cue from just inside the adult roosting room. He appeared in the doorway, shirt off but scarf on. He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and folded his arms. "Will you finish this chatter soon?"

My mother's hand went instantly to my chest. They pushed me behind them, and I realised for the first time that their tail was loose. It swished low like a timid shadow. I blinked. I'd never seen their tail before, but it was black and tremendously bushy, just like a fox's. "M-my son was just leaving, High Count."

"High Count," I tried, squirming past then, "I wanted to ask if I might have a-"

My mum curled their claws into my chest, and I winced as they sunk through my scraggly fur and scratched my scales. "They were just leaving."

Anti-Bryndin eyed me curiously for a long moment, while I held my tongue and quickly bowed my head. "Do you know of Winslow?" he asked.

"Er… Prince Winslow? Your son? Yes, of course I know him. He lives here, after all, and he'll be an adult in two years' time."

"Yes, I think. He is a good boy, and soon to be High Count. You are interesting, Julius, and a Water year to his Soil… When you are both adults, I wonder if perhaps you would let him taste of your karma, with you as his first."

My mum inhaled. I blinked. Winslow was the quiet sort, with the harshest and most nasally voice one could imagine. From what Mona had told me, he'd been presented with a Water ring during his betrothal, but hadn't found himself a match. Unusual for the heir to such a high position of power, one might think, but nonetheless, it was true. In the last seven years, I'd perhaps heard him speak four words. Winslow had been snivelling and scrawny since forever, and… let's simply say that he wasn't quite my type.

Then again… I made rapid calculation of the situation's pros and cons. If the High Count was personally inviting me to pleasure his son someday, that was a good sign I held his favour. Mona had cautioned me that if I didn't leave on my own terms, Anti-Bryndin would shake me from the colony soon enough. Unless Winslow intended to offer me the position of his follower drake, and I became Anti-Buster's heir… Hmm. First General Anti-Cosmo did have a lovely ring to it.

Or if a wedding were to one day come out of this…

_You would be next in line for the High Count seat._

Well, if I married a drake then I would become High Countess, actually, but the positions were legally equal and the titles a mere means of distinguishing between them, regardless of one's sex. I chewed on the inside of my cheek a moment, then let it go.

"Ah… The offer is appreciated, High Count. I'm honoured you would suggest the matter, and I'll consider it more when he and I are both a mite older."

Anti-Bryndin nodded once and disappeared back inside the roosting room. My mother followed more slowly, pulling at the hem of their dress. I sighed. When I returned to my study, Anti-Kanin, Anti-Julian, Anti-Tanner, Anti-Harold, Ashley, and Anti-Russell were all waiting for me.

"She said no," I told them, choosing to refer to my mother in the feminine rather than plural way. My friends didn't yet know of the wind spirit tangled in their head… Mother tended to not like that information getting out.

"Your mamá's the worst," Anti-Julian said. Anti-Kanin  _tsk tsk_ ed and clapped his hand to my shoulder.

"Chin up, skipper. We'll make sure ye get a proper ceremony. We'll sneak out."

I smiled up at him, although it was forced. "Thank you, Anti-Kanin. I appreciate it."

So we arranged our plan. We would each gather a few ceremonial things and fly to a hidden cave tucked high in the cliffs which surrounded Luna's Landing. I'd been there once before when I was younger, obediently following my friends as we snuck out to spy on Anti-Kanin and his former drakefriend. Oh, we teased him mercilessly when he suggested the place today, but he maintained an even expression throughout it all, even rolling his eyes in good humour.

"'Tis a nice wee cave," he gruffly said. "Yer mum won't find us there. Besides that, when you look down upon Luna's Landing and its streets of glowing crystal… Smoke me, but you won't find a better sight in all the cloudlands."

A few nights later, long after my crechemates had trickled into sleep, my older friends appeared at the door to the juvenile roosting room and beckoned for me to join in. Ashley was already with them. "Mm?" Mona murmured as I uncurled myself from around her. I froze on the roost, but nonetheless, she opened one eye and yawned. "Julius? Where are you off to?"

I cupped her cheek in my hand and kissed the tip of her nose. "Worry not, my pet. I shall return to you an adult, bearing my honourable name."

"I love you," she murmured, and I slipped from the room while she drifted back to sleep. My friends in turn embraced me in their playfully rough hugs, and then Anti-Kanin handed me a turquoise coloured cloth. It resembled a skirt, but was composed from three overlapping pieces stitched crudely together. A simple rope made up the waistband.

"Strip down and put this on," he ordered.

"Bachelor colony wear?" I asked, but took it anyway. The cloth was wool, incredibly soft instead of rough. There was something familiar about it, something that felt like home, but I couldn't place my claw on exactly what it was.

"You wanted a traditional ceremony."

"So I did." I dressed as instructed, noticing then that each of my friends wore a cloth the colour of their own zodiac already. My pyjamas and monocle were left in the roosting room. I paused. "Wait. I want to bring Jasmine and Lohai. They should be here for this."

The others gathered by the Castle's rear exit while I hurried to my study. Jasmine sat at attention outside my door, staring up at its handle. I slipped past her, keeping her firmly out, and blocked the bottom with my books again.

"Lohai?"

When I turned around, I noticed she was already awake. She sat in her terrarium, hunched over, nudging her hand through several clumps of ashes. Only a single candle - Foop - remained sitting at her side.

"What hap-?"

"Sometimes they just die, Papa."

We exchanged looks, but no further words. I opened her box and held my arms out to her. Lohai embraced me. For a moment we held each other, before I lowered her carpet bag into her terrarium. She crawled in, Foop obediently after her, and I zipped them up. With a sigh, I left the study.

"May I take their souls?" Jasmine asked, rising to her paws.

"They're ash, Jasmine."

"Their souls will linger here without a guide."

"Ha…" I shook my head. "I suppose your kind  _do_  steal souls after all. Perhaps the Fairies were right about everything."

Her tail twitched at the tip. "Not everything. Coin sith herd souls to Plane 23, where they can rest themselves for a season in company of their dear departed. Cath palug guide the dead directly to their next incarnations. Lohai's children didn't survive as genies, so let me find them a form which suits them better."

I exhaled. "Go ahead."

She nodded and slipped inside my study. I didn't wait to watch her work, and instead hurried down to find my friends.

"Jasmine?" Anti-Edmin asked, eyeing me uncertainly. I shook my head.

"She didn't want to. Well… Tally-ho."

We fled the Castle before anyone knew we were gone. Oh, I'm sure the camarilla guard on duty spotted us flying off, but if so, that was an issue we would deal with in the morning. Away we flew above the forest, then above the crater where Luna's Landing lay nestled down for sleep, its pale streets deserted. Off in the distance, a single foop bayed at the moon. I couldn't help but feel exposed as we went, wearing nothing but the simple cloth about my loins, but the thrill of open air coursed throughout my blood and left me shivering. Long ago, my ancestors had dressed this way. In mirroring them now, I was keeping part of their ancient culture alive.

We pinpointed our cliffside cave with little trouble. To my delight, Anti-Lance was waiting there. I'd sent him a scry, but hadn't expected him to come. Anti-Kanin crawled inside first, pulling his wings in as tightly as they would go. "Smaller than I remember," he said from inside. "But we can smush."

"I'm not sitting next to you," Anti-Julian muttered to Ashley, who shrugged and vanished inside after Anti-Kanin. Anti-Tanner followed him.

"I like it," I said, landing on the rocky shelf just outside the opening. "It reminds me of my heritage- my granddad Anti-Gonzo experienced his first stroke exchange ceremony up here, you know, and as I recall, my mum and Anti-Bryndin spent their first night as a couple up here too. It only seems appropriate that the child of both their lines should use the place now. Now, just tell me what I need to do."

Anti-Kanin nodded towards the edge of the shelf. "We shave your head next. Sit down facing the city, and dangle your legs over the side so I have an easy angle, aye?"

Again, I did as I was told. But when he brought the knife to the back of my head, Anti-Kanin hesitated.

"Ah… Are ye sure you want me to do this, laddy? Ye've always had the most and the prettiest hair among the lot of us. Ain't a lot of folk flitting 'round with blue anymore."

I clenched my eyes tight, curling in my toes. My hands twisted against one another in my lap. "Yes. Cut it all. It's an ancient tradition for young drakes, and who am I to stand against it?"

"Besides," Anti-Tanner jumped in, "if he don't like it, he can always use magic to put it back."

Anti-Julian shoved his shoulder. "I think not, if he does not wish to be sacrilegious."

With a few swift cuts, Anti-Kanin lopped off the thick curls below my ears. He progressed upward, snipping some here and some there, while I pretended I cared less for my looks than I truly did. When he sheathed the knife, I reached up to touch the top of my head.

"Oh. How soft it is there, how… interesting. Is my scent gland coming in yet?"

"Not 'til after Fairy-Cosmo gets his adult wings. Be patient, matey."

"Mm. Pity."

I crawled inside the cave to join the others, all of us bumping elbows and knees as we scooted around. When we were settled, more or less, Anti-Julian cleared his throat.

"We pooled what money we had to buy the lavender and citrus vials, and half the salt we need, but we couldn't afford the wine, coconut butter, vanilla, poppy salve, or eucalyptus… so we brought vegetable oil, grape juice, and white chocolate."

"Yes, I suppose it's more difficult to purchase things without the whole colony's funds behind you," I said first, and then the second part of his sentence kicked in. I gasped, drawing my hands to my mouth. "Wait a moment. Did you say  _white chocolate?"_

"Aye, melted to liquid. It was all we could-"

"Shh." I lay one claw against Anti-Kanin's lips. "No excuses now. It's perfect."

Ashley bobbed his head in agreement.

With my blessing, Anti-Kanin took the lead in the sacred ceremony, subbing the names of the more expensive ingredients for what we had. He poured liquid lavender into his hand and with two fingers, painted several spirals across my right palm. My wings trembled. Clearing his throat, he began to speak, voice low.

"Julius Anti-Cosmo, with this lavender I have given you the essence of Prince Friday's amethyst ring. Dayfry's grace is the gift of balance. May ye forever feel fulfilled when it comes to companionship. May you seek out friends as well as lovers, and surrender to your passions until you've been pleasured in full. I bless your hands, that so long as you balance your time with thought and care, they might serve you in exploring this beautiful world, and in reaching out to serve the people who occupy it alongside you in this day and age."

"I thank the spirits, and I accept Dayfry's grace."

From there Anti-Kanin progressed to my upper arm, changing the small bottle of liquid lavender out for the citrus oil. Once again, he traced intricate looping patterns across my fur until the entire vial was empty.

"Julius Anti-Cosmo, with this citrus I have given ye the essence of Prince Saturday's ruby brace. Saturn's grace is the gift of energy. May ye exercise freely and rest often, so you may always have the ability to pursue those things in life that delight and excite you. I bless your arms, that so long as you care for your body's health, ye might have fierce strength to conquer any challenge which stands in your way."

"I thank the spirits, and I accept Saturn's grace."

Then my bare chest: "With this chocolate, I have given you the essence of Prince Sunday's turquoise brooch. Sunnie's grace is the gift of focus. May ye be able to concentrate on your education, gain a passion for learning more than what is required of you, and always think of your colony first, rather than honing in on yourself and your struggles alone. I bless your breast, that so long as you remain honourable and uphold the codes and traditions of our people, ye might have the strength of mind and spirit to assert yourself and request all that you ever need…"

So it was, in seven places across my body- Ending, of course, in multiple markings across my forehead in honour of Thurmondo, who watched over intellect, would bless me with creativity and dexterous skill, and who was honoured by the jade tiara. Then each of my friends took a vial or two, and poured the oils over my head and upper body. They began to rub it into my fur, starting at my shoulders. All the while they chanted softly, "Julius. Julius. Julius. Julius."

"Anti-Cosmo," I murmured, bowing my head. I placed two hands to my breast, neither overlapping the other. The right to represent my primary counterpart, the left to represent my refract. "Anti-Cosmo. Anti-Cosmo. Anti-Cosmo…"

Their soft chants of "Julius" faded away. Silence fell. One by one, each of my friends came before me, took my face in gentle hands, and kissed my forehead with a soft press. "Anti-Cosmo," they whispered in turn, and my eyes began to water.

For the rest of my life, I was Anti-Cosmo. The only time I'd ever speak my private name again was on my wedding day, or presenting myself before the nature spirits.

I embraced Ashley, who soon enough would be having a ceremony of his own. He'd be Anti-Poof then- a name which I did not particularly like, but knew I'd have to adjust to using. "How do you feel?" he asked.

I smiled, bubbling over, and pressed my forehead to his. "Oh, delightfully grown up. Thank you, cousin."

"I wish our families could see us to adulthood."

I poked him fondly in the chest. "As I recall, you're your own mother reincarnated, are you not? So in a way, I suppose you will."

Ashley looked at me a moment, tipping his head to the side. "I'm sorry you have such issues with Anti-Florensa. She wasn't so harsh when we were juveniles… She played rough, yes, and wanted to tussle constantly and show up every drake she ever met, but… I wish I could have remained in my Anti-Joanie form for longer. I could have been like a mother to you."

"Well, now you're the finest cousin I can ask for. Let's not dwell on the could-have-beens and almost-weres."

Ceremonies complete, we lay back and rested for a time, sprawling across one another's near-bare bodies in the tiny crevice. We laughed, reminisced of our childhoods together, and assured one another of our mutual affections. True to my private promise, I didn't wait a moment longer than I had to before I practically threw myself in Anti-Kanin's lap and begged him to grant me his friendship in our culture's most ceremonial way.

See, now that I was legally an adult, I was permitted to play about in our tongue-piercing traditions first-hand. Anti-Kanin, gentle and kind, did not refuse my request. The experience was new and strange, with fewer sacred words than I had anticipated, but it wasn't Anti-Kanin's first time offering his favour, and he was able to hold my head steady and guide me through the process. I inhaled every juicy moment of it. The ceremony consisted of two roles: that of a superior, and that of a subordinate. Having enjoyed being on my end immensely, I wondered what more there could be to look forward to, when it was my turn to show a young Anti-Fairy the movements and patterns of such a special dance.

Not that I had to wait long. Once we'd finished, Anti-Kanin flew down to the city to dispose of the ceremonial items. I sat in the cave with the others, prodding at the gash at the back of my tongue he'd granted me in reward for a job well done. Tomorrow, he and I would certainly be sticking a small gem through it… perhaps a rosy pink one, which was his favourite colour. While I tried holding my tongue out far so I could see the piercing clearly, Anti-Lance lay his hand upon my knee.

"May I, Anti-Cosmo?" he asked, blinking up at me.

"Oh!" My gaze flicked briefly to the rear part of the cave, where, judging from the sounds and motions, Ashley and Anti-Edmin were in the process of solidifying their friendship too. So were Anti-Julian and Anti-Tanner, while Anti-Russell supervised their technique and offered his advice here and there. "Yes, of course! Why, we've been roommates for millennia, so it would only be proper. Only… I'm still so young… Is it okay for me to take the role of guide?"

"It's only a ceremonial gesture," Anti-Lance told me gently, squeezing my leg. "And it's not my first time accepting the favour of a friend, so don't worry that you'll need to teach me how. Your only role is to slit my tongue once it's over."

"I… I think I can manage that, then. Um, you are older, so it's your right-"

"I grant it to you."

"Right. Um. Let me understand how this works from the other side…"

With some fumbling in the small space, we made it work. Anti-Lance pressed his lips against my forehead, then my nose, my sternum, the thumbclaws on my wings, the backs of my hands, and so on. When every expected place had been gently kissed and the cut had been delivered to his tongue, he lifted his Sky-blue bachelor garb near his mouth so he might use it to dab the blood away. This left his bare lower parts entirely exposed for a moment- tail, barbs, and all. I lay on my back beside him, panting with soft pleasure and wondering again how Fairy and Refracted societies ever made it anywhere without the close bonds shared between Anti-Fairies. Friends are at their most honest when they are naked, I think. It's difficult to work openly with one another until those barriers between you have assuredly come down and left you mutually vulnerable. If Fairies would take the time to understand the tenderness of sociosexual behaviour, perhaps there never would have been a war.

"Big gash," Anti-Lance said between presses of cloth to his mouth.

"My apologies… Perhaps I was a bit too eager on the delivery, ahaha…"

Anti-Kanin had returned just before Anti-Lance and I finished our exchange. After a few more minutes of playful socialising as we all bundled together for warmth, he raised his head towards the clouds that glowed the brightest red, where the sun below was nearest. He shifted his wings.

"Mm. I've a hankering that we should prob'ly head back, me drakes. It's getting rather early. The colony will wake soon and notice we've gone off."

Anti-Julian cracked open one eye. "Why should we go back?"

I tilted my head. "Why wouldn't we? That's our home, isn't it?"

"Home, shmome," he scoffed. "Who needs 'em? All those adults, there only to ruin our fun. Nosing into our lives, interfering with our personal business. Disciplining us. Bullying us. It never was enjoyable."

"Wait," I said, scrunching my brows. Then I let them fly further up my forehead. "Good smoke, you're right! Why  _should_  we go home? It wasn't a very pleasant place. I certainly don't wish to see Mother again."

"We could fly away come morning," Ashley said, with growing excitement. "We can go anywhere, wandering together wherever we want to."

Anti-Tanner clasped his hands to his chest. "Imagine the pastries we can sample! The scenic destinations we can see! The new damsels we can snuggle up to every night!"

"The simple drakes in modest common clothes," Anti-Kanin mused, stroking his chin.

"Yeah! No more waiting for our turn in the bathing pool! We'll enjoy a public bathing pool big enough for all of us and more."

"No one denying us sugar after supper!"

"No more 'Yes, High Count' or 'No, High Countess."

"No whiny pups who will screech high screeches all night long."

"No more fighting over that well-worn part of the array's upper branches."

"No bumping elbows while we dine, or cramming so many of us on one bench that we fall off the other side."

"Yes, yes, think of it, lads! We're free." And I threw back my head, and laughed. "We're  _free!"_

Free. Free. Free! We celebrated with giggles, crawling over one another to nuzzle heads and press bare bodies close, drunk on the joy of our discovery. I think Anti-Lance and I, or maybe it was Ashley, fell asleep together, lying on the cave floor for lack of a good spot to roost, with his large wing draped over my shoulders like the safest blanket in the world.

The first stop our travelling bachelor colony made before we planned to roam was Luna's Landing itself, of course. Anti-Julian, Anti-Tanner, and Anti-Russell split off in search of food, while Anti-Kanin accompanied me to the market's jewellery shop so he could select the small gem for my first tongue stud. Since it was ceremonially intended to be his favour, it was his right to choose the one I wore in his honour. I hung back in silent fascination, watching from the corner of my eye as he scrutinized each option offered in the velvet box for display.

My tongue had been pierced and left to softly bleed by the end of the ceremony, of course. Anti-Kanin was gentle with me when I sat on the provided stool and opened my mouth. His hands, so large and rough, moved with care as he inserted his chosen gemstone in the gash on my tongue. Pink, as I'd predicted. Anti-Lance waited patiently for me to select a stud for him, and when I saw the orange and black gem patterned after the eye of a great beast, I couldn't resist. Anti-Lance blinked, since of course he didn't associate me with Ilisa's colours, but he sat very still as I slotted it into place.

"Charming," I said softly when I finished, wiping his stinging saliva on my handkerchief.

The others began whispering from their place at the next stall over. We turned. A lone damsel carrying a notepad and a shopping basket floated straight past Ashley. "Lovely morning," Anti-Tanner called, waving to her. She turned her head. I giggled and shoved Anti-Lance's shoulder. He pushed back.

"Holy smokes, she's coming over. Guys, be calm."

It was Anti-Russell who struck up conversation with the dame, while the rest of us tripped over each other jumping in. Her name was Anti-Starfire, and her wit was no less fiery than her name suggested. Her mere presence overwhelmed me, but it would be a lie to say I wasn't impressed.

After she flitted off to finish her shopping, Anti-Russell leaned back on his heels with a smirk. "Wasn't she wonderful? I'm gonna see if she'll roost with me."

"Hey, wait." Anti-Tanner flattened his ears. "Why should she roost with you? I'm the one who called her over."

"Yeah, but she likes me better. Did you see that way she rolled her eyes? She's totally into me."

I frowned. "Hold the crystal ball. It was my idea to visit the market in the first place. We wouldn't have even found her if it wasn't for me. I ought to have her."

Anti-Julian slapped the back of my hand. I looked at it for a second, then slapped his hand too. Then we were both smacking at each other, grunting and snapping and flailing, until Anti-Kanin wrapped his arms around my waist and stepped back with me.

"'Ey, turn down the heat, me boys. We don't have to fight. Why don't we ask her who she be wanting to couple with? That be fair, aye?"

"Aye," we all mumbled after a moment's pause.

So we tailed her while she finished browsing and did, approaching with all the humility and grace excitable drakes could be expected to show. Anti-Starfire clutched the handle of her basket as she listened to our proposal, and turned her attention on Anti-Kanin.

"Does that include you, cutie?"

Anti-Kanin's ears went down. "Oh, er… I'm not interested in damsels. I'm only leading these fellas where they want to go."

She turned away with a grunt of annoyance. Her eyes slid across me without pausing, and she let them settle on Anti-Tanner. She twitched her claws. "Come on, fluffytail. Let's have a chat."

He bounded after her in delight. If she'd stroked her finger up his chin, I think he'd have melted on the spot. I wrinkled my nose, but went on browsing the market with the rest of our group anyhow. Anti-Russell fell into a horrid mood, storming everywhere and muttering behind his fangs.

Anti-Tanner didn't roost with us that night, but he was at our grove first thing the following morning, beaming with a face of starlight.

"Anti-Starfire and I are going to form a colony! The Anti-Cloudpuff colony."

"Already?" I cried, rubbing my eyes awake. "Good smoke, you've only known her for a day."

"A day," he said dreamily, rubbing his nose against hers. She nuzzled him back. "It feels like a year."

"Smite me," I muttered.

Anti-Julian approached the situation a bit more logically, studying Anti-Tanner with a hint of concern in his eyes. "Are you sure? I mean, she  _is_  a Fire, and you a Soil. You're naturally incompatible."

"We'll make it work, won't we, muffintops?"

"Mm, yes… I think I'll fall in love with you."

We threw a simple ceremony together for them by afternoon, embracing them while they exchanged the acid in their saliva for a long moment. Then the pair spread their wings, hands linked. "Farewell," we called after them. They spiralled away into the sky, giggling and crooning. "Silver blessings!"

Once they'd disappeared, I lay back on the grass with a sigh, my hands spread to either side of me. "Won't that be delightful? Falling in love?"

"You'll get your share of it," Anti-Kanin assured me.

"Yes, but I do so wish it would happen now. I'm in a very romantic mood tonight." I sighed and brushed my fingers across the grass blades. What was Mona doing back at the Castle? Surely by now she must have realised that I'd flown off with Anti-Kanin's bachelor colony. Did she know it was an accident? Or worse, did she suspect I had met a charming damsel who had captivated me more than she ever could? Did she think I'd abandoned her? Why, surely she knew I was only curious, and I'd come home again soon.

"If you like your genie so much, why don't you just form a colony with _her?"_  Anti-Russell teased, and everyone laughed. I laughed too and pulled Lohai's carpet bag to my chest.

"Ohh, in another lifetime, perhaps." I wasn't opposed to wandering the cloudlands with Lohai at my side if she were a free genie, but for now… I simply wished to make my lifelong companion a Sky year. Tarrow had bestowed a Sky ring upon me at my betrothal ceremony, after all…

… Why was I planning to marry Mona, again? Hmm… Surely I had a reason.

We travelled as a colony five more months, before Anti-Russell and Anti-Kanin suddenly found themselves smitten over the same drake in Crowfeld. After supper but before dessert at one of the local shops, Anti-Russell pulled Anti-Kanin onto the rear balcony. The rest of us watched through the window, and when the discussion turned colder, we rushed out there as one.

Anti-Kanin kept his arms folded, feet planted. "I'm the dominant drake here, Anti-Russ. You can't just drive me from my own bachelor colony."

"I can if I challenge you for it." Anti-Russell drew his wand and bared it at a slanted angle. "Let's have us a good-old magic fight. Winner stays. Loser leaves."

I gasped. Skipping sociosexual behaviour and diving straight to insults? Now  _that_  was a dangerous game.

Both drakes looked at the rest of us. We looked at each other, the energy field dripping with uncertain thumping sounds. Anti-Julian floated over to Anti-Russell's half of the balcony. Ashley followed. Anti-Lance looked at me. I took one tiny step towards Anti-Kanin, but my ears burned.

"Well?" Anti-Russell asked, not lowering his wand.

Anti-Kanin pressed his lips together. "You know? We all know I'd win, but if you lads won't accept me as yer captain willingly, I don't even want it. I'm not going to fight you- It's against my principles as a Love year. I'm leaving." With that, he snapped open his wings, launched himself from the balcony railing, and glided away over the sagebrush.

"Um." I glanced over my shoulder. "Sorry, everyone, but I'm going with Anti-Kanin. He's my best friend. See you again someday… I hope. Look for me at migration."

 _"Fine!"_  Anti-Julian hollered after me, the tears bleeding down his cheeks like raindrops in the wind. "We never wanted you anyway. You are the weakest link!"

Anti-Lance flew after me, grazing my head with the underside of his wing. "Thank you for inviting me to your ceremony," he said, "but I should get home. I'm an Anti-Sundive of the Anti-Sundive colony, and I'm expected to take over from my father."

"I understand. Thank you."

Anti-Kanin grunted in response. Anti-Lance flew with us for an hour and stayed while we rested, but when our strength returned, he gave my cheek a nuzzle and then flew off in another direction. I sighed to watch him go.

"He wasn't committed to bachelor life from the start," Anti-Kanin muttered, flopping from his branch down into the stubbled grass. I flew down to join him, landing with more grace.

"To be honest, I'm not certain I am either. I do miss the Castle… Remember those big Krisday dinners, with the grilled sandwiches and spiralled kabobs of fruit?"

Anti-Kanin groaned. "Aye, and the roasted hogs and pheasants too. Chestnuts."

"And the buttered corn dripping in salt, and mashed potatoes, and baked beans. And fish. I like fish." I stared up at the twinkling stars. "I miss home."

"Same here."

"I miss Mona. I miss Anti-Robin. I miss Anti-Bryndin. I miss my mum."

Anti-Kanin turned his head in a sharp twist. "Don't say that, boy. Yer mother was a nasty cod."

I studied the blue ring around my middle finger. That part of my skin was long worn-down from wearing it, and I wondered if I'd even be able to slide the ring over my knuckle and off again. "But I do miss them. I miss the way they took care of me when I was ill. I miss the way they helped me dress. I miss the way they taught me Vatajasa."

Unfolding his wings, Anti-Kanin reached over and grabbed my hand. "You listen now, matey. You don't need yer mama. I can do those things for you. It's just us now, so I'll protect you. You just be the brains, and I'll be the brawn. With that kind of power, we're unstoppable. Aye?"

I couldn't resist smiling at the tenderness in his eyes. "Aye, aye, captain."

"Arr." He released my hand, and it flopped down to my knee. "Get some sleep, lad. We'll be moving off again in the morning. Gotta put some distance between us and the others. Next stop? Cedarcross."

"Cedarcross? Oh, at last! My first migration where I shan't be relegated to the juvenile arrays!"

We were off at once, me dragged down by the weight of Lohai's carpet bag as usual. But this time, instead of fighting with Anti-Russell to fly in the lead, Anti-Kanin coasted beside me. I liked that. We shared a great many conversations as we went.

Cedarcross wouldn't officially welcome us for two weeks still, so Anti-Kanin and I stopped at a border crossing station and were approved to visit some of the nearby towns, as was often permitted under the condition that we left our wands as collateral. Anti-Kanin had been this way several times when he was younger, and he was eager to show me his favourite sights.

"'Ivory Wand and Comet Blood,'" I read aloud when we landed in front of a small building. I pursed my lips. "That's a bar, Anti-Kanin. Are we allowed in there? In Fairy World's legal system, we're underage…"

Anti-Kanin shook his head. "Aye, but we're allowed to live and purchase Fairy goods. They respect our right ta that."

 _They only want our money,_ I thought, but clutched the strap of Lohai's bag and followed him inside.

Floating chairs and tables filled the entire bar, absolutely pummelling it with Sky energy. The whole place brimmed with older Fairies, and all of them were growing steadily drunk. I did notice a large group of young Anti-Fairies sitting together around one of the back tables, laughing amongst themselves like a colony. Fellow travellers? Perhaps they were heading towards Cedarcross too. Some of them were damsels, and an anti-far darrig made eye contact with me. I quickly looked away, running a hand along what remained of my hair.

The rear half of the building consisted of cracked and weathered stone, as opposed to the bright white walls and lovely wood in the front. A few traces of glittering light suggested that pieces of the floor had been forced together with sloppy magic year upon year, and they were obviously in need of a remodel by a proper architect. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. It was so like a Fairy to lean on magic as a crutch for obtaining fast goods and services, even if they were charged a rollover tax for it each and every day. Reason and frugality simply aren't part of their culture. Poor planners, the lot of them.

Beautiful sugar-rimmed glasses lined the shelves behind the bar. Each was interspaced with a glass bottle of glistening soda, all in a variety of colours. I eyed them curiously. We didn't see a great deal of soda up at the Blue Castle, although it occasionally made an appearance on appropriate holidays. Like most of the noble class, I considered drunkenness beneath me and had never been particularly tempted to try it (especially since it hadn't been expressly forbidden me at any time, or else I'd have stolen away with a bottle for the sheer rebellious adventure that act would grant me). But I was a legal adult now, so why not try a simple taste?

I voiced this to Anti-Kanin, and he ordered us a small bottle for us to share, along with a scoop of salted crisps and bread rolls. As we settled on the bar's stools, I noticed more than a few Fairies glance at us in amusement. A wry smile crossed my lips. Ah. They recognised my youth and had correctly predicted my experience with the drink, so now they eagerly anticipated my reaction. I made a mental note to keep my face calm, and perhaps slip a sly smirk in there too. While Anti-Kanin opened the bottle, I leaned forward, peering up at the slanted mirror behind the bar and turning my head this way and that. I ran my claws through what was left of my stubbled hair… Wasn't  _that_  a dark diamond pattern there?

"No scent glands 'til Fairy-Cosmo gets his adult wings," Anti-Kanin chided, as he had before.

"I know, I know…" I crunched down on a crisp. "But what's the harm in looking?"

He poured me a shot of sparkling cherry drink, then one for himself. We clinked them together and raised them high, only to be interrupted by a commotion at the window. Those seated at the nearby tables had pressed close to see out. I lowered my shot glass slightly. "Hm? What's caught their interest over there, do you think?"

One of the fairies peered through the window a moment longer, then whirled around. "It's Rupert. Scramble!"

Several people gasped. As fairies whirred about the room, I glanced at them, and at the ones who stayed seated. Then I leaned forward. "Anti-Kanin… Look. The nervous fairies are all gynes. Do you suppose a more dominant one is coming here?"

Would our evening end with us witnesses to a live gyne fight? I wasn't sure my stomach could handle that queasiness. I exhaled, then looked at Anti-Kanin again. "I suppose we'd better get on with it, just in case our atmosphere is about to be ruined. Ready, then?"

We downed our shot glasses together. Or rather, Anti-Kanin downed his. Immediately after I tasted mine, I gagged. I let go of my glass, which clashed back onto the table and spilled the rest of my drink. My hand slapped to my mouth, but it didn't stop the juice from dribbling between my fingers.

"The bubbles  _burn!"_

Those who had been watching me instead of the window erupted in laughter. I strained to retain my dignity, but all I wanted to do was spit the tingling flames from my mouth. Anti-Fairies weren't permitted in the bar's washroom, and I doubted the Fairies would be happy if I heaved my stomach indoors anyway. I turned desperately to Anti-Kanin, who called immediately to the bartender for wine to clear the palate. I'm sure she overcharged us; I didn't care.

And still the crowd laughed.

I closed my eyes and  _forced_  myself to swallow the carbonation destroying my tongue. Anti-Kanin pressed a wine glass into my hand, and I gulped it all. Even when the soda no longer touched my mouth, I felt it sizzling still. I swiped my tongue around my lips. I longed to ask Anti-Kanin how Fairies managed to drink this rancid stuff at all, but my throat had sealed shut. My hands trembled, ears down.

They were  _still laughing._

"I want to go," I whispered, pressing my handkerchief to my lips. My wings shuddered, beating nervously enough to ruffle the napkins on the table behind me.

"Right now?" Anti-Kanin asked in surprise. Disappointment rimmed each word.

"I… I guess I… can wait…" Covering my face with my hands, I tried to steady the rapid shaking of my wings. Intake air. Expel it. Intake air. Expel it. Though the process nearly frightened me more than it soothed.

_I want to leave I want to leave I want to leave_

At that very moment, the door chimed to signal a newcomer's arrival. I was already half-turned in that direction anyhow, so I simply glanced over through my fingers. Anti-Kanin did the same. A large gyne, nearly as tall as the Head Pixie but with broader shoulders, blocked the doorway. I blinked in wary surprise, wondering which way to bolt. He certainly wasn't much to look at. Plaited brown hair, scarlet eyes, muscles certainly there but concealed in simple green clothing too loose to incite the imagination…

The drone who held open the door for him was far more interesting. Even I could recognise that, shaking and anxious I may be. He dressed entirely in bold red with eight brass buttons down the front of his shirt, all of them linked in pairs via shiny tassels. His golden hair spilled across his shoulders, almost swishing as he walked. His skin was so pasty, he nearly looked like porcelain. He did walk, but with his glossy wings outstretched more than I thought was socially proper in Fairy World. I must admit, what I could make out of his wingspan was so wide, even  _I_  forgot to tremble for a moment. A soft whistle left Anti-Kanin's lips. I bobbed my head in flustered agreement. I reached another crisp towards my mouth, only to realise when I bit my finger that I'd forgotten to pick one up. Oh. I used my thumb to push my crown a little higher. Anti-Kanin leaned closer to me, his voice hardy above a whisper.

"Shame that body types don't always translate perfectly across Class boundaries, aye? I wouldn't mind getting to know his Anti-Fairy."

 _I wouldn't mind getting to know_ _ **him** ,_I thought, sweat freezing in my fur.

The pair joined us at the bar, the curious drone right beside my stool. I dabbed my handkerchief across my face again, including my brow. His gyne peered at the selection for a moment, then said, "One lemon-lime twist, vanilla cupcake on the side. And… one chocolate strawberry for me."

"Sprinkles on the cupcake," the drone added, leaning his folded arms against the counter. Smoke, that voice could have buttered a crumpet and sprinkled sugar on top. One hand went to his cheek, and his smirk prickled the fur around my neck. "Prettiest ones you've got, Glittertoes. Lay 'em on thick."

The bartender sighed, but reached for a mug shaped like an acorn. "Another one already? You certainly burn bridges fast."

The drone crossed his arms. "You know me, Glit. I'm irresistible. Hand me off to any gyne, and I'll have him at my beck and call within a month. My record's a day and a half. Gynes aren't so tough. You just have to know how to handle them."

He put slow emphasis on  _handle_ , a flickering inflection at the end. When he said it, he beamed up at Rupert, who glanced at him, but didn't respond. Biting on the edge of my handkerchief, I allowed my eyes to trace from his head to his four shimmering wings. They were very long and thin, dangling now so as not to bump my face, though one was very,  _very_  close to brushing over my lap. The shape intrigued me, and the myriad colours running through the veins, that soft curve as they rested against his hips…

"Like 'em?" asked the drone, sounding amused.

… Drat. I always seem to forget that Fairies can sense the direction one glances even while facing the other way. Infallible memory, my crown. Knowing all I know is useless if I can't bring my thoughts to the forefront of my mind when I need it. Caring for my dignity no longer, I turned away and grabbed the thin fur on my head with one hand, digging my elbow into the bar counter. My fangs clenched, and my little  _inhales, exhales_ suddenly became more difficult.

Anti-Kanin was more brazen. Lifting his shot glass, he said, "Ho, pasty! You got an Anti-Fairy who can match those legs?"

"Depends," the drone fired back instantly, turning with a smile. "You got a Fairy for those shoulders?"

The crowd was silent this time, when I'd expected a laugh or even a jeer. I dared to raise my head enough to peer around the room. All eyes were on us… but silently. Even the bartender wasn't serving quite as fast as she could have. A few dishes clinked, but that was all.

The gyne reached his hand to me. Palm up. An Anti-Fairy greeting. Automatically, I placed my hand in his. "I am Arthur Cracklewings," he said, voice low.

Wait…

The drone reached his hand forward too, his movements jerky but firm. He made direct eye contact with me. "Rupert Roebeam. Nice to meet you."

I gave him the most intelligent response in my arsenal, which I only pulled out in incredibly high-stress situations: "H-hi…"

"This guy giving you any trouble?" he asked, stepping between us. His hand darted out to ruffle Anti-Kanin's hair (Anti-Kanin winced with sudden alarm, smirk dropping). "You look anxious, buddy. Maybe I can help with that. What did he get you?" Rupert glanced at our shared bottle, then clicked his tongue. To Anti-Kanin, he wagged a finger and said, "Only lightly carbonated? Shame on you, cheapskate. Looks like I'll have to buy you  _both_  a proper soda."

"Er…" Anti-Kanin said.

"Mm!" I said, pressing my hands over my mouth. "No, no thank you! No more soda, please. We still have a ways to fly."

Rupert ignored me. "Arthur, hand me your wallet."

"Please," I began to protest.

 _"Tsk,"_ he scoffed, pulling a fistful of bills from the case. He clapped the wallet shut and handed both it and the loose money to Arthur. "I won't take 'No' for an answer. Buy them something they can share with friends, Artie."

I was mortified, but then the conversation took a sudden swivel. Rupert shifted his attention from Anti-Kanin to me, and cocked his head. "Don't I know you from the Eros Nest?"

"That's my former place of employment," I said uncertainly.

Rupert considered this, then nodded. "Well, if you ever want honest work in Fairy World" - he flipped a small card between two fingers and presented it to me - "Arthur's interested in hiring. Our restaurant's smack on this side of the Divide Gate over in Godscress, perfect stop for those on pilgrimage to Fairy World's Zodiac Temples. We lost our staff when news got out that we wanted to serve Anti-Fairies, so now we plan to serve  _only_  Anti-Fairies. I looked around the other day and said to myself, 'Self, what better way to show our support to their people than hiring Anti-Fairy staff at a fair rate?'  _Voila!"_

"Thanks," I stuttered, taking the card. Rupert beamed.

"Yup! Scry us if you're interested. Don't hesitate to send your questions our way. I'll answer them all  _personally._  What was your name again?"

"Ju- Anti-Cosmo."

"Anti-Cosmo. I'll remember that." Arthur returned then to deliver us the soda and exchanged parting words. Then, Rupert looped their arms together and fluttered his fingers to Anti-Kanin and I in farewell. When they finally left the bar and people began to move and murmur again, I shook my head.

"Well! I know ditzy and transparently desperate is the drone stereotype, but that fellow took the honey. I say, that fellow took the honey! If I didn't know better, I'd say he came off more like an Anti-Fairy than any Fairy I've ever known. And believe me, I went to school. Makes one wonder if there's such a thing as  _umbra_  displacement syndrome, hm?"

Anti-Kanin chuckled, his laughter stilted. "Heh… Maybe in his past life, the li'l skipper was one of us. If'n you wasn't betrothed to Mona, I'd reckon you just found yeself a balanced soulmate."

"You're sugarloaded," I teased him, but tapped my chin. "I say, that's a curious thought, isn't it? A fairy for a soulmate… And good smoke, did you get a look at his wings? The bloke's on blooming enhancers, I swear."

I'd hardly gotten the words out of my mouth when the anti-far darrig slid onto the stool beside me and propped her chin on one hand.

"Hey, scrappy-ears. What colony are you from?"

"Oh, Anti-Coppertalon originally, but I'm a traveling bachelor at the moment."

"Really?" Her fingers trailed directly to the highest button on my coat. "Any chance of you settling before the night is out?"

I choked. That was fast. "I, um, I-"

Chuckling, she tightened her grip and pulled me from the stool. "Come here, newbie. Let's get you an education. My name's Anti-Joy, by the way."

"A-Anti-C-C-Cosmo," I stuttered. "I'm a Water."

"No kidding, shortstuff. I saw your ring. I'm a Soil. We're perfect for each other, no?"

All my nerves fired at once. "Um-"

Anti-Kanin was there in a wingbeat, his hands wrapping over my shoulders. "The lad's mine, honeybiscuit. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to set your sights elsewhere."

"I'm a Fire year," she argued, flashing her betrothal ring. "I can have him if I want."

"Love year," Anti-Kanin said simply, flashing his. The damsel squeaked and withdrew her hand.

"O-oh… I didn't know. My apologies." Head low, she darted back to join her friends, who greeted her with a mixture of giggles and sympathetic coos.

"Let's go," Anti-Kanin murmured to me, nudging me towards the rear exit with Rupert's bottle. I nodded and forced my legs to move.

As we stepped out onto the take-off balcony, the bartender called out to us, "You and your drakefriend take care now."

I forced myself to chuckle and wave at her. "Oh no, we're just roostmates!"

The rear balcony was deserted, quiet. The air was warmer in Fairy World than I was used to, but the season prompted shivers nonetheless. I fluffed my fur with a gasp and wrapped my arms around Anti-Kanin.

"Thank you! Ohh, Anti-Kanin, it happened so fast and I didn't know what to do!"

He hugged me back. "No trouble at all, matey."

Squeezing him tighter, I laughed. "Oh gods, did you see her face?"

"I sure as stormfire did!"

He laughed and glanced at me. I laughed and glanced up at him, and our laughter quieted down. We gazed through one another's eyes in silence. His were so dark and glistening, it looked as though moon and river had tumbled into one. My core, supposedly silent in my head, suddenly began to beat. I could hear it thrumming in my ears. I started to turn my face away, covering my mouth with my fingertips, but Anti-Kanin caught my shoulder and refocused my attention on him.

"Anti-Cosmo?" he murmured.

My claws tightened around the balcony railing behind me. I bobbed backwards, ducking my head for an instant before I had the sense to look him in the eyes again. Anti-Kanin crossed the distance between us with a flowing step. I blinked again. Despite the sip of soda I'd consumed earlier, my mouth felt suddenly dry. My wings trembled only once. I lifted my head, and slowly, his face lowered to meet mine.

My first kiss with Mona had been horribly awkward, and only belatedly delightful. It had dripped with anxiety, fear, and confusion as I tried to sort out my muddled childhood memories and apply them to the juvenile damsel who'd stood before me. But where Anti-Kanin was concerned, I didn't even hesitate. I knew my lifelong friend, even with my eyes closed. He was gentle, proper, cupping my cheek in his enormous hand. My fingers groped along his wrist and found his sleeve. All my claws tightened in the fabric. I didn't let him go.

He was the one to pull his lips away. Unable to speak, all I could do was gape up at him as I fell back from my toes to my heels. Anti-Kanin's cheeks turned purple with a fizzle.

"I- I'm so sorry, matey. I mean- We ain't s'posed to, and you also said ye just saw us as roostmates- I know you're young as a fish fry, but- but I dunno, I've just known ya forever and I just thought I'd-"

"No, I…" I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I went for it too… I didn't mind. You're a good kisser. I mean, I think. I don't really have much experience with, um, drakes, but I, er… I enjoyed it."

"Aye," he said, grinning through the flushing energy field. I laughed.

"Aha, aha… This is bloody mad, isn't it? Kisses before intercourse?" I covered my mouth with a tent of my hands. My blood rushed through every vein. The energy field tingled with falling raindrops and speeding winds. "I-I mean… We can't do this- we're not committed! Kiss for long enough and we'll habituate to one another's acid for life, a-and then if we ever fought one another- I-if we had to defend ourselves-"

"You think I would hurt you?" Anti-Kanin asked, softly. He didn't sound offended, or amused. Only gentle. That pushed the tears over my eyelids. They dripped onto my shirt, sizzling as they burned their way across the fabric.

"No. Not you. Never."

"Then I reckon it oughta be okay if we make a habit of kissing, aye?"

As silent wingbeats passed, his expression grew more uncertain, more flustered. Anti-Kanin muttered a sharp word behind his fangs. He pressed his palm to his cheek and gave it a few rubs. Then he turned away.

"I'm beyond sorry. I'll go-"

"Don't!" I grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and yanked him down to my level. His ears snapped forward with instant interest. Taking that signal as invitation to proceed, I allowed my Ilisa instincts to kick in. I pressed my lips between his and started us over again. Anti-Kanin's arms slid below my wings. He pulled me forward, bringing me onto my toes once more, and kissed me even deeper. Yes. Yes. Pulling back, I made the attempt to conquer his lips by squishing them in mine, only to find him determined to do the same to me. I fell back with a shake of my head and a giggle. Oh, this was too much. So  _this_  was what it was like, kissing drakes!

"Can this all be true, mate?" he whispered. His eyes flicked from my hair to my chin and all around my face. His fingers tightened into my spine. "Anti-Cosmo, would ye say ye… like me?"

I scrunched my nose. "I… I don't know. I don't really know if I feel anything for you like  _that_ , Anti-Kanin… but I also know I've never felt anything like 'that' for anyone else, either. Or at least not yet. I only just turned 150,000. Perhaps I'm too young for special feelings. I mean…" Here I squeezed his hand, laughing with a thrill between my wings. "Bloody smoke, I haven't the foggiest whether I've even developed all my adulthood hormones yet."

"If that's a problem-"

"No, I don't mind it if you don't. Ohh, this is _terrible!"_ Clasping my hair, I cried, "We're breaking every rule! But we're our own colony for the moment, and no one's watching tonight. Let's play a little wildly. You're my best friend, Tarrow smite me. Regardless of how old my physical body is, my old soul says that right now, this is  _right_. By smoke, I'm willing to give us a try."

Anti-Kanin laughed and pulled me in for a hug, arms and wings together. His effervescence ruffled my ears. "Gods, I think I just might love you, savvy!"

I squirmed in his grip, thoroughly amused by his closeness. "Oh, give over, you big lump, before someone sees us like this. You're embarrassing me."

"You're my drakefriend now. I'm allowed to embarrass ye just a wee bit." Anti-Kanin bumped our foreheads. "Let's find a nice spot back in Anti-Fairy World, and I'll buy us both a dish that'll really get the drool flowing, so mixing our acid together won't be any trouble after that. Aye?"

"Oh," I whispered, holding my hands to my chest. "Yes… yes, I want that. So much." And with a laugh, I bowed. "Aye, captain! Right away!"


	25. Trails Mix

_In which Anti-Cosmo experiences his first adult migration season in the Winter of the Crippled Tern_

* * *

Luna's Landing was the city in a crater, but Cedarcross was a mountainspire town. Across the final frosted canyon, a cluster of broken, snowy peaks loomed against the sky like snarling castle towers. Light leaked through the hundreds of windows speckling the rock walls like stardust; I could make out soft pulses of the music echoing around the cavern even from here.

I pricked my ears. Voices. Indistinct at this distance, but the accents were undeniably Hy-Brasilian. And all adults, for the first time I'd ever experienced at the end of a migration. My people. My home. After weeks of flying the trail with only Anti-Kanin for company, I craved the nectar of interaction. Song, dance, expertly prepared food, no Fairies poking hot wands in our business, shelter from the bitterest edges of cold… Gods, the food. I hadn't eaten a bite more substantial than foraged sprites for days. The thought of a full meal dusted my lips with roaring temptation. With a laugh, I dove into the canyon, but my drakefriend rushed after me and yanked on my hand.

Drakefriend… I'd never get used to calling him that.

"Pah. I think we were tailed, matey."

"What? Don't talk tosh now- everyone comes to Cedarcross at this time of year, Anti-Kanin. Of course we're being tailed."

"By an owl?"

I followed his pointing claw to a large golden-brown bird hunched in a scrawny black tree sticking from a gap in the side of the mountain. It must have flown incredibly fast to keep up with us for the hours we'd been flying uphill, but it showed no signs of exhaustion. It wasn't breathing, panting or otherwise. Aha, that confirmed it. Amateur shapeshifter. Couldn't even disguise that guilty look on its face. Too, the tree it perched in had no leaves at this time of year to hide the very tall, very shiny snow-white crown above its head.

"That crown style, Caden. A nix refract." Louder, "Dame Artemis? Good smoke, is that you?"

The owl shifted its feet, the tree creaking. Anti-Kanin cleared his throat and shot me a pointed look. Oh, yes… She was a Refract visiting the lower Planes of Existence. I wasn't supposed to speak her name. My apology.

"You're on the Anti-Fairy migration trail," I said instead, lifting my voice again above the wind. We'd reached a terribly high altitude by this point. Thin air scratched across my throat. "Nothing else of any interest exists here, which is precisely the point. No one gets  _that_  lost, my dear."

"You caught me red in the wings, sir," said the owl. She released the branch and skimmed to a new perch on a crooked nearby ledge. "But then, I've never been one for hide and seek."

Anti-Kanin's wand zeroed on her throat before she finished speaking. The end fizzed with sparks of blue. "How many are ye?"

"Oh, I believe she works alone. In her culture, she's considered a disgrace. Other Refracts don't associate with her."

"Who knows you're here?"

"As few as possible, I imagine. She'd hate to be dragged back to the Nest, which gives us an entire stack of karma-charged cards to play with."

Anti-Kanin let out a grunt. "Matey, stop answering for the prisoner."

"Aye, captain. My apologies, captain."

"I'll ask again. What are yer intentions with us tonight, feathers?"

The owl leaned to one side, its head twisting upside-down. She raised a talon my way. "Ooh, ask him, sir. I told him and I'm sure he tells it better. I've been listening to him jabber since we left Sootwater, after all."

"That long?" I squeaked. Resting in Sootwater Creek had been my idea.

Dame Artemis  _pop_ ped back into her regular form, shedding sparkling feathers. She had a milkshake in the curve of her clawed hand, her wand poised like a twig between two knuckles. "Since the Cracklewings joint at the border."

Her cup said 'Minty Fresh' but she reeked like a trunk of burned cleaning supplies, as always. Anti-Kanin tilted down his own wand. "Wench, if I had an itchy trigger finger, you'd've been shot through the windpipe by now."

(Poised like a twig? Why did I say that?)

"I'm 27,000 next millennium. Would you shoot a child, sir?"

Ignoring that, he asked, "What's that around your neck?"

The sun pendant. I winced. Dame Artemis pointed to the dark patches under her eye with her pinkie claw. "Trophy," she said. "I'm here for the antidote."

"Antidote?" I repeated.

She hopped down from the ledge and walked towards us, curls bouncing and boots crunching in the fresh snow. She was tall enough to come up to my nose, and I shifted back. Anti-Kanin steadied my shoulder with a hand. "Yes sir." She nodded to the stone spires behind us. "You were born and raised as experts on many more Zodii beliefs than I've even heard of, sirs, so I assume you both know what this place is."

"What?" Anti-Kanin mumbled, his wand arm dropping. Strike her or don't- that was the question spinning circles in his mind. And he was at a loss. A flush flared in my face. This- this impotent little Refract child had injured his pride. I brushed his hand away and moved towards Dame Artemis. Fear flashed across her eyes. Only for an instant, but I saw it. Her wings prickled up, feathers splayed and ready for take-off at a moment's notice.

"Yes, we know it. An old Zodii Temple to Salalalyn, the demigod of Sleep, youngest daughter of the Cycling Hen and the Reaping Crow. She blessed the location and granted it to the Anti-Fairy population back in the days we were subject to seasonal torpor. We're honouring her by travelling here, not disgracing her in any way."

"How did  _you_  know that?" Anti-Kanin muttered.

"Sally."

"Come again?"

Dame Artemis looked at me, then Anti-Kanin, then me, and took a tiny step away. "She prefers the name Sally, sir."

"Really?" I drawled. "Have you met?"

She gripped her necklace chain just above the sun pendant and said nothing. I sighed and gestured to the snowy peaks.

"Come along, then. You've journeyed this far and the honourable thing to do is let you in. Our Zodii code demands it. All may worship at any temple they choose, no matter what their species."

Anti-Kanin fixed her with a warning stare. Leaning in, he growled, "Don't wring with us, glitter-rump."

"No wringing, sir. I just want to go in."

I knew he and I were thinking the same thought:  _Don't take your eyes off that dame until we find_   _Anti-Elina._ She'd organized the migration this winter. She could tell us what to do.

"Sleep temple, hm?" I asked, falling into step beside Dame Artemis. Since she was walking, I did too, even though the frost scorched my feet like thorns. Anti-Kanin took up position on her other side. She glanced between both of us again.

"Yes, sir."

"You act as though you know a great deal about this temple for someone who used magic to journey here. That wouldn't make your trip a traditional pilgrimage. I wonder about that."

"School project, sir?"

I clenched my teeth. "Nice try."

Four guards with drawn wands stood at the entrance to Cedarcross Point, though I knew, too, that one of the camarilla members was surely watching their backs from a tower window just the way they did back home. Er, at the Blue Castle. To my shock, one of the guards' fur bore uncanny resemblance to a patch of fresh moss. I hadn't recognized him from afar while he wore white instead of yellow. He faced an emerald glimmer that lit the sky behind the shortest peaks, but when we came close, he picked up our sound in the energy field and his ears flicked back. He spun around to face us.

"Anti-Cosmo!"

"Er," I said. I couldn't decide whether I was more or less uncomfortable that he remembered my adult name instead of calling me my private one. I'd only turned 150,000 a few months ago, after all. Had he been tracking the important dates in my life all this time?

Anti-Fergus came forward, hand raised as though he intended to ruffle the thin scruff on my head. "I knew your father, remember? Anti-Robin?"

I tightened my grip on Anti-Kanin's arm. Anti-Kanin placed a head on my shoulder and said, "Matey, the last time they saw ya, you slammed them to a wall and stole both their wands."

"Is that a Refract?" asked one of the other guards, but Anti-Fergus waved them off with a flap of his arm.

"Keep your wands low. That's my niece!"

I turned to Anti-Kanin, hands on my hips. "Did you hear that? She's his niece. Of course she's his niece."

"Took her in when things got rough with her family," Anti-Fergus explained, holding his hand out towards her instead (I hadn't gotten my head pat). "I know it ain't much, but I want to make my little home a sanctuary for the weirdos who get themselves lost. I was adopted myself, you know." He laughed, turning to the uneasy guards again. "Getting caught by them feather-tushes at the Nest was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because now, I don't have to be afraid of 'em anymore."

I stared hard at Dame Artemis, who shrugged in reply as though saying,  _Things are going my way, so I'm not complaining._ Anti-Kanin cleared his throat. "She says she's here to worship, not migrate. I'm sure she won't be a bother. Anti-Cosmo and I can supervise her 'til Anti-Elina can get a look at her."

The three guards stepped back to discuss the situation together. I politely folded back my ears. To Anti-Fergus, I said, "It's delightful to see you again, old chap. If I may inquire, why were you staring so intently at the Barrier beyond those peaks a moment ago?"

Anti-Fergus glanced over his shoulder at the green glimmer again. I watched as his brow furrowed like a field. "Because…  _he_  is. His family paid the coin for it, mine the magic. Only drake in 24 planes who hates it more than I do."

"Ah, yes, of course… You can sense all that, sir?"

This time, Anti-Fergus did reach past Dame Artemis and scruff the hair on my head. "When you finish growing up, the lines connecting your core to your counterparts' through the energy field'll open like floodgates. You'll find out you can sense a lot of things then, heh heh."

I swallowed a bitter lump in my throat. His words only reminded me of the adulthood talk Anti-Buster had given my litter back at the Castle, which only reminded me that Mona had come into her adult wings already, which hurt because I still had potentially tens of thousands of years left before I joined her. Fortunately, I was saved from answering by the other guards waving us through the double doors. Anti-Kanin floated straight in, but I paused to admire the elaborate carvings for a moment. Dame Artemis halted beside me, playing with her sun pendant.

"Are you well?" I asked.

"Truthfully I'm not very fond of Zodii temples, sir. I'm just here to see if she'll speak to me."

"Perhaps, darling, perhaps. Who knows? Salalalyn might even give you a moon necklace to go with that sun you have there, wot?"

Dame Artemis turned the pendant over in her hands and nodded once. We floated through the doors together and into a high-ceilinged entry hall at least four times wide as it was across. The walls were painted gentle brown and interspersed with columns, the floor tiles reflective black except for the strip of white near the door. Directly ahead of us stood a massive and beautiful stone statue of a sheep on its hind hooves, forelegs upturned and raised above it. Twin staircases, one on either side, curved up to a single doorway just behind the sheep's head. I thought the place as peaceful as could be, but Dame Artemis's wingbeats staggered. She dropped back to her feet, only to stumble two steps forward. I caught her arm.

"Are you all right, my dear?"

She massaged the back of her neck. "Yeah… I'm dandy. I'm dandy."

Anti-Kanin and I helped Dame Artemis back to her wings and steered her over to a blue-haired damsel standing in front of Salalalyn's statue. She wore a fine black outfit with many golden snaps and buttons down the front. A square black hat floated above her head in place of a crown. When the damsel saw us, she extended a gloved hand and said in Vatajasa, "May I take your coats and shoes, dear drakes and dame? … And your, ah, drink cup."

Dame Artemis slurped at her straw. "I'm keeping this."

"Anti-Wendy?" I broke into a grin and flipped into speaking Vatajasa myself. "What a lovely surprise! It's me, Anti-Cosmo. The drake who visited the other side of your enclosure all those times? What brings you here tonight? I didn't think Anti-Fairies were allowed out of the Nest, even for migration season. Good smoke, look at you! I've never seen you smile before."

"Yes sir." The smile just couldn't seem to dance away from her lips. When Anti-Kanin, Dame Artemis, and I gave her our shoes, she said, "Dame Venus brought us here because our dance troop is performing for several nights this month. My sister has the lead role, of course, but I won't be joining them. That life wasn't for me. Nowadays I work here organizing the closets and not saying much to anyone. Except to the drakes I like, of course." She winked at me. I clasped my hands.

"That's wonderful, Anti-Wendy. I'm so happy for you."

"Would you like me to take that bag to your room, sir?"

It took me a moment to realize she meant Lohai, who had become such a constant presence on my arm I hardly noticed her anymore. I hesitated. "We uh, haven't gotten our assignment yet."

"Check in with First General Anti-Buster just up the staircase, sir. Once you've registered, everything we servants put in your delivery bin will automatically be  _poof_ ed to your room's storage comb every hour on the hour."

"I loathe walking on marble," Dame Artemis muttered beside me. "My place is carpeted for exactly this reason."

"Comb?" I asked.

"It's, ah…" Anti-Wendy made a triangle with her fingers. "Honeycomb, sir. In your roosting room, you'll find that one of the walls is covered with shelves like the comb of a hive."

"Oh, I see. The ledge nook system."

"Right," she mumbled, glancing away. "You wouldn't use insect terminology in Anti-Fairy World… stupid."

"Thank you for your service, Anti-Wendy. Being a servant takes so much patience, honour, hard work, and dedication that often goes unnoticed by the crowd, but I hope you realize how dearly you're appreciated. If you see your sister before I do, be sure to tell her Anti-Cosmo said hello. Ooh, drat. Don't tell her that. She'll question my intentions and I shall never have peace of mind- for smoke's sake, who sends someone to tell their sister nothing more than a simple greeting? She'll think I'm a disaster. Don't say that."

"It's all right," Anti-Wendy assured me. "I'll be sure to let her know you're here." As she turned away, she blew me a kiss. Anti-Kanin poked me in the ribs with his elbow.

"Heh. I may not have understood a word that popped from her mouth, but I'm not blind. Looks like you have a damsel to woo this winter, matey."

"Anti-Wendy?" My cheeks fizzled up. "No, no, it isn't like that, really."

"Just saying, I wouldn't mind."

I smacked his chest with the back of my hand. "I have you. You're enough trouble as it is."

We flew up the stairs and found Anti-Buster and the Seat of Sky on Anti-Bryndin's camarilla, Anti-Praxis, waiting for us at the registration table just outside the ballroom. To be more specific, Anti-Praxis was waiting at the table. Anti-Buster paced back and forth near a mural of Salalalyn and her three brothers, combing his claws through his hair.

 _"Ben'argenta,_  Uncle," Anti-Kanin called. Anti-Buster turned, ears flattened.

"Anti-Kanin… Anti-Cosmo. It's good to see you both made it. Did either of you notice anything… unusual about that damsel downstairs?" When Anti-Kanin and I exchanged glances and told him we hadn't, his frown deepened. "There's something odd. Something almost familiar…"

He returned to his pacing.  _"Ben'argenta,_  Anti-Praxis," Anti-Kanin greeted. "Anti-Cosmo and I are reporting for winter. And this dame's here to worship at the temple tonight."

"And eat dinner too?" Dame Artemis asked hopefully.

Anti-Praxis started to speak, but broke into sharp, scratching coughs instead. "Are you feeling all right?" I asked. He shook his head, still coughing.

"He isn't contagious," Anti-Buster said, and when he regained his voice, Anti-Praxis added, "I've had sore bones for years. It would seem my throat is going too. Here. You two are in Roosting Room 9." He bestowed us each with a small pin shaped like a sheep. Dame Artemis got an honorary golden one. She leaned away.

"Uh… I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but do you have anything in silver? Gold isn't my colour."

"You're gold already," I teased.

"It doesn't go with anything I wear!"

Anti-Praxis broke into another fit of coughing. Dame Artemis slunk behind me, clinging to my arm. "I'm sorry, dame," he choked out, "but at this time of year the upper levels of Cedarcross Point are reserved for those here on migration."

Anti-Kanin unclipped the pin. Dame Artemis slid to my other side. "I'll be in and out, I swear. I'll keep my mouth closed and I won't bother anyone. You won't even know I'm here."

"As an outside party, you'll need to wear one of our golden pins. Orders of the acolytes."

"Gold's heavy. It throws off my flight pattern."

I shot a pleading look at Anti-Kanin for him to leave me out of this. Fortunately, he was big and strong enough that he didn't need me to hold her in place. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. Dame Artemis gave up, though she scrunched her eyes and fists in anxious anticipation. Anti-Kanin stuck the pin through a fold in her robes. She blinked and looked up at him. Then down. One talon clicked against the metal sheep.

"Oh. It's only painted. I can do that."

I turned away so she wouldn't see me roll my eyes. Anti-Kanin gave her an approving slap between the wings. "C'mon, mateys. I think we're just in time to catch the next tour."

"Tour of what?" Dame Artemis asked. I put on my most sickly sweet smile and linked my arm with hers.

"The moon gallery, of course!"

She looked at me like she had half a mind to hex me.

The three of us joined a tour group filtering into the nearest side corridor. The floor had been designed purposely uneven, craters gaping at every step. Punctured dots lined the walls, lit by a glowing panel on the other side. Our guide shared tales of the past, present, and expected future. When the corridor widened, we found ourselves surrounded by more display cases, dioramas, statuettes, and posters than a Spellementary science fair. I grabbed Anti-Kanin's elbow.

"Look over there. A scale model of Luna's Landing!"

Dame Artemis snorted. "I have a bigger one back home."

I drifted around the room, reading every label card twice over. Dame Artemis followed me, unimpressed. No matter what I showed her, some relative had shown her first. Any fact I read she already knew from memory. What the gallery had one of, she had two. I really expected to interest her with the moon rocks. They sat piled high in a shining barrel, and I ran my fingers over all of them.

"Aren't they simply fascinating, my dear? I've never been to a planet's moon before! In fact, I've never been to Plane 2… Frankly, I'm a bit intimidated of the alien landscape down there."

"It's nothing special," Dame Artemis muttered. She plucked up a pebble and rolled it between her palms. "Shouldn't this stuff be in Princess Eve's temple anyway?  _She's_  the moon spirit. When did Sally get involved?"

Anti-Kanin sighed and took the pebble away. "It's symbolic, lass. Our capital city's founded on the tale of Helena's folly; we named it Luna's Landing for a reason. Earth's moon is more than Earth's moon. It's  _our_  moon… Respect that, please?"

She sucked her straw again and pointed at the mural on the nearest wall. "Who's that fritzy thing with the black wingtips? Artist's depiction of Helena lurking through the shadows in shame?"

"I imagine it is. And look." I ran a claw across the mural's base. "Here come the foops hot on her tail, howling her name evermore."

"They painted her feet too big," Dame Artemis decided. "All right, pals. This body of mine is starving. When's food?"

We finished the gallery walk and made our way into the dining hall. The second level of the dining hall, specifically- there appeared to be three. The entire room was lit by floating, colourful orbs that bobbed overhead in a string of beads. The ceiling arched high, high overhead like a breaching sea serpent. Low tables shaped like open roses sprouted a mere few wingbeats apart, each one encircled by an even eight cushions. A good hundred and fifty people were already seated and sharing stories. My eyesight wasn't the greatest (particularly on that side), but it seemed to me that some sort of semicircle stage took up the left-hand wall. Two figures dressed in pink stood near the curtain with a black-haired fellow, though I couldn't make them out from here. Were they looking up? I leaned over the rail and craned my neck. Criss-crossing metal bars had been driven into the cavern's ceiling, obviously intended for roosting. I couldn't understand why until the two dozen anti-fairies hanging there snapped their arms and wings up in unison and began to twirl. A band played the music from a nearby nook in the wall.

"Ceiling dancers," I breathed. "This  _is_  a classy party." I… felt underdressed.

Anti-Kanin chuckled and patted my shoulder. "Yep. I said the same my first time seeing it."

I turned to gauge Dame Artemis's reaction, but she had eyes only for the ground. She crouched beside an artificial flower garden and traced her fingers across the petals of a pansy. "They're beautiful…"

"Do you have many flowers in the High Kingdom?" I asked. Perhaps Anti-Fairy migration culture didn't interest her, but maybe we could bond over her homeland. "Or do your people consider growing flowers to be a waste because they absorb nutrients that could feed more beneficial crops?"

"I love yellow flowers…" Before I could stop her, she snapped the pansy's stem and tucked it all behind her ear. I scowled. She snorted, combing talons through her curls. "What? No one will miss just one."

 _They'd notice something amiss if I keep picking them and lead a false trail back to you,_ I thought, but didn't say so. Instead I said, "For the record, that colour doesn't go with anything you own."

"Suck a lemon, pal. It'll make you sweeter."

An escort arrived then to lead us to our table on the lower floor. I bit my tongue the whole way there, trying to remind myself that it would be undignified to lash out at a child.

"She's a guest who won't be here longer than an hour or two," Anti-Kanin told the drake who flew up to recite the dinner specials. He bobbed his head, filled our wineglasses, and placed an  _ishredsi_  dish on the table. I watched Dame Artemis for a moment, though she was picking at the feathers sprouting from her wrist. Finally, I gave up on my naive hope that she'd realize she was the youngest at our table and therefore the intended server of the appetizer _._  I took the  _ishredsi_  myself and scooped us each a small portion. The bowl went back on its tray, but to my horror, Dame Artemis picked it up and served herself even  _more._  My claws tightened on the table's edge. I may have screamed inside my mouth.

"We appreciate your company and are happy to have you, dame," Anti-Kanin said, giving a meaningful ear flick my way. So that's how it would be the whole rest of the meal, then? Fine. I huffed internally and shifted my attention to the ceiling dancers. Foam-white clothing with silver trim appeared to be the style this evening. Suits and skirts flashed with rainbows as they twirled between glowing orbs and leapt from bar to bar. The two sunset-haired dancers had been positioned at opposite ends of the circle like swishing candles…

"… Anti-Kanin? I don't see any blue-haired damsels up there."

"Suppose not," he said, searching himself. I waited a few more minutes, twiddling my thumbs, but no other dancers rushed in from the sidelines. The entire team appeared to be present here and now.

"Look. Anti-Wanda isn't here."

"Who?"

"A friend of mine I often visited at the Eros Nest. Anti-Wendy's twin, in fact. She told us her sister would be dancing tonight, remember? No, you don't speak Vatajasa. It doesn't matter. Something's wrong. I can feel it."

Dame Artemis, still chewing, followed my gaze. She took another bite and said, "Count the petal dancers, bub. They're uneven."

"Oh gods, she's right. Why didn't I notice that?" I looked again at Anti-Kanin, my mouth running dry. "One of them is missing. Look. There's a drake up there in the loop who doesn't have a partner, but he's feigning like he does."

"You're making yourself anxious, matey. The lass must've had to take a sick day. Just stay calm and enjoy the show, aye?"

"But-"

Anti-Kanin placed a firm hand in my lap. "Anti-Cosmo. Let it go. If they ain't lined up evenly, let's not point it out to them. We're here to eat good food and enjoy the atmosphere. Not criticize the entertainment. Aye?"

I gazed up at the dancers, watching them twirl and jump and flap their wings. As much as I would have liked to, I didn't buy Anti-Kanin's argument. If Anti-Wanda had taken a sick day, Anti-Wendy wouldn't have assured us she had the lead role when we saw her at the door. My eyes slid down to the pink figures standing onstage. Hmm…

"Yes, yes, I'm certain we shouldn't worry… Look here, Anti-Kanin. I'm going to do a lap around to clear my head. I'll only be a second. Don't worry about me- I'll come right back."

"Aye, matey."

Dame Artemis stood up at the same time I did. "You're both very gracious for letting someone like me join your meal, but I think it's for the best if I take my leave now. If you need me, I'll be worshiping at the other end of the temple." She grabbed her milkshake cup and flitted off. I slipped away in the other direction, padding towards the stage on the tips of my toes. As I came closer, the two pink figures by the curtain became more distinct. One was Dm. Venus, making marks across a clipboard. A smaller, fluffy-haired figure in a suit coat but no trousers floated a respectful distance away from her, his hands clasped behind him. Thank gods she brought the dumb one. And his nervous nanny too.

"Drk. Cupid," I whisper-called, keeping all but my eyes below the stage's lip. Too quiet. Right. His detection threshold was higher than mine. I raised my voice. "Drk. Cupid!"

This time he heard me. He rotated one eye in my direction. I beckoned him to come, but he didn't move. He pointed with two fingers, however, and Juandissimo slipped behind the stage curtain. I waited for a moment, puzzled, until a door beside me swung open and Juandissimo ducked into the dining hall.

"Have you found a problem, señor?"

"Um…" I gestured towards the ceiling with a rolling hand. "There's a drake up there. He seems to be, ah… missing his partner."

"Is he, señor?" His voice cracked there at the end.

"Come now, chap. You and I both know the dame who's absent. Soft blue hair, oversized flat fangs that sit crooked in her jaw, a laugh that could charm a glacier into melting, a little mole on her leftmost knuckle. Where is she?"

Juandissimo fidgeted with his wrist.  _"Lo siento,_ señor. I don't-"

"Anti-Wanda," I snapped, my patience snapping wire-thin. "Your counterpart's damsel- you know who I mean!"

 _"Silencio!_ She will hear you." Juandissimo dropped his voice to a whisper again. "I- I apologize, señor. The dame you seek is changing clothing now and not to be disturbed."

I stared at the sheep-shaped pin sticking out of his shirt collar. The number 4 was painted on its side. Dm. Venus would have reserved a room for herself, her children, and the triplets' caretaker before she reserved anything for her musical entourage. That meant the anti-fairies from the Nest were most likely sharing roosting room 5. I took off into the corridor before Juandissimo could speak another word.

Room 5, Room 5, Room 5… I flew past door after door, watching the numbers tick lower and lower. When I found the proper door, I fully expected it to be locked. It wasn't. It swung in to reveal a windowless chamber with dim torches, a roosting array modelled after an elm tree, and the back of an undressed anti-fairy damsel who flaunted long curls of blue hair and a short black tail no thicker than a bone. She whipped around. I froze, hand still on the door. Good smoke. She really  _was_  dressing.

"Tap tap," I said weakly, clicking a claw against the stone archway. "Um… You know, your hair looks simply radiant when it's down like that, darling. It frames your face rather nicely."

Anti-Wanda held her tail steady behind her, hands cupped around it for additional cover. She didn't speak for a moment and only looked at me, panting slightly in either annoyance or confusion (I'm certain it was the latter).

"Don't really like simple," she said at last. I noticed then that the beauty paint around her eyes had been running. Dark stripes marred her cheeks and the back of one hand. I tipped my head.

"You know, my dear, that's actually rather fascinating. I barged in unannounced and without any hesitation whatsoever, you hid your tail, not your stomach pouch the way a Fairy would… Clearly no matter where you were raised, there is Anti-Fairy blood in your core, wot?"

Anti-Wanda scratched her, ah… bun with her claws. "Shameless drake. Whatcha want? This ain't your roost."

"Shameless? Oh, um. Right." I averted my gaze to the floor. "My apologies, darling. I've seen you undressed in your enclosure so many times that I must confess I didn't think you modest."

"Ain't really. Just noticing you're not really a gentledrake. Guess our brains was both wrong on this one."

"Your delicate wit stings as sharp as ever," I responded dryly. The fur prickled down the back of my neck. I clasped my hands. "As a matter of fact, I am a very honourable gentledrake, which is why I came looking for you, actually. Your sister told me you had lead role in the performance tonight, and when I couldn't find you up there, well, I became terribly frazzled. I thought perhaps you'd hurt yourself."

Anti-Wanda hesitated. "I'm sick."

My eyes narrowed. "Who ordered you to say so?"

"Dm. Venus. Aw, shoot. Probably shouldn't have told you nothing about that."

"I'd predicted as much. She's a tyrant, that dame."

Anti-Wanda shrugged and picked her discarded suit off the chair beside her. "Guess she thought I'd fly off now that I ain't trapped in the Nest. She saw me talking to my sister up front, too close to them front doors. That's why she locked me up back here in the roosting room."

"… This door wasn't locked."

Silence.

"As a matter of fact, roosting room doors never have locks. It's a hazard. It came right open. Did you even try it?"

She wiped her cheek again. "Aw, shoot. Don't matter. She knows I'm too dumb to get out by myself." Anti-Wanda looked my way, her lower lip trembling. "You remember my boyfriend?"

"Anti-Juandissimo? Of course. What-?"

"He got away," she blurted. "We did our dance up here in Cedarcross couple years back. He done flew away. He's free now and… and… the boss said… she said I was a ha… that I wasn't even… A-and he didn't never come back for me…"

The energy field glittered with the sound of raindrops plinking on river stones, but only at its surface. If you listened long enough, you'd hear the seething winds and crackling embers beneath. "Have a seat, darling," I whispered, lifting the suit from her hands. Her fists clenched the crimson fabric as though it were a dying friend.

"I can't go back there, Anti-Cosmo," she choked out. "I wanna get out. I wanna travel. See the world. Eat new foods. Speak new words. Find my pa. I wanna see the cloudlands and the planets too. It's been 170,000 years trapped inside that anti-fairy tunnel. Smells of droppings and mould in there, and there ain't no talking sense into the fruities next door. If I gotta spend my whole life there, I'm gonna die before it's over."

I hovered before her with the suit draped over my forearm, at a loss for what to say. "Your pa?" I finally asked. Anti-Wanda looked up. I shrugged. "You said 'pa' instead of 'parents.' I was curious to know if he ever visited you."

Anti-Wanda shook her head. She rubbed her fist against her nose. "He changed his look any time he came to see us pups, back when my sis and I lived free. Think he was hiding from someone, keeping' low. Never told us his name. One day Ma took us to Fairy World and left us there. Cherubs picked us up not long after that."

"What?"

"Uh-huh. Plopped our tails on a bench and told us she'd be back with carnival tickets real soon. Always wanted to see the carnival. Shouldn't've asked her again after she said to shut my trap." Her eyes glazed over. "Anti-Wendy was asleeping, but I remember that's what Ma said. Said it just like that and left us there."

"Gods, that's horrific… But suppose something happened to her? She could have been arrested by some young Keeper jumping to conclusions, or-"

"Anti-Cosmo, I ain't never gonna forget the way she flew off as long as I live. Dame lost weight that day. Two weights, right up here on her shoulders. Shoot, we waited on that bench for days… Didn't let my sis leave even when she begged. We was starving. Poor dumb me really thought she was coming back." And she laughed, touching those wet cheeks again. "Guess Boss is right, huh? I'm half. I'm just a half. Half a balanced anti-fairy, half a pretty anti-fairy, half a brain…"

"Two halves make a whole," I assured her.

"A whole what?" she spat back. "Idiot?"

Her accent slurred the word in a sharp, stabbing way I'd never heard before, like claws dancing across the springcase keys. I thought about her statement and decided to say, "Two halves of a whole partnership: You and the idiot soul you marry. Idiotically happy, I'm sure. Someday you'll be out there travelling the world with the other half who makes you feel whole."

"Chump," she muttered. "Ain't no half a partnership either. After I get free, I ain't tying myself down for nobody. No wedding, no rings, no promises, and anyone who tries to court me's gonna get their heinie kicked to Santa's workshop. And  _don't_  say that makes me like my mama."

My ears flicked back in alarm. "Darling, I would never dream of it. Believe me, if that dame truly did drop you over the border instead of turning you over to a relocation home, then I despise her as much as you do. Why, I would slay a dragon for the chance to have my own pups, and yet your mother  _abandons_  you and your sister like that and your father doesn't stop by to say… Wait. Hold the wand. This is… familiar." My eyes slid one way, then the other. I opened my mouth and shut it again. "Wait… Wait." I turned a full circle, drawing tick marks in the air. Then I spun around again and hugged the poor suit against my chest. "Oh my gods. Oh my gods, Anti-Wanda. I know your father."

She blinked as though plunged in a stupor. "Huh?"

"Smoke, it adds up! Twins abandoned by their mother in Fairy World while their father never knew! He's been looking for you ever since, but he never expected to find you in the Nest. He didn't know you were still in Fairy World all this time.  _Anti-Dusty's daughters._ "

"… Huh?"

I threw the suit back into Anti-Wanda's lap. "Get changed, and in a hurry. Do you have a wand? If so, use it now. Good smoke, I need to sit down. No, I'll stand. It's just- This is-" I tried to bow to her, sweeping off my crown in the process. Shock dropped me to one knee. "You're the lost princesses, darling. You would be heir to the High Countess seat right now if Anti-Dusty hadn't been cut from the Anti-Coppertalon family tree- Anti-Buster told me once on a visit to Fairy World in my youth. Oh my gods, we have to find your sister. You both have to come with me."

Anti-Wanda trembled, curling her claws into the fabric of the suit once again. "I… can't go with ya, Anti-Cosmo. The boss'll find me wherever I go. She told me herself. I ain't fast or smart enough to get away- I'm just a half, remember?"

"Half a partnership," I said, extending my hand. "We're in cahoots now, my dear."

"Cows don't hoot…"

I couldn't hear the dining hall music this far down the corridor, but surely they'd be wrapping up the show soon. I licked my lips. "Anti-Wanda, do you crave your freedom more than anything, even Dm. Venus and her foul words? Do you want to meet your father again? I know him- he has the authority to get you out of there. He can help. You can come… home."

… Home.

"Come on, Anti-Wanda," I begged. "Get dressed. Well? Why aren't you moving yet?"

She shook her head. "Don't we gotta make an escape plan? It's gotta have plans."

"There's no time. You're alone here and Dm. Venus is busy with the show- this is the perfect opportunity to slip away. Until you're with your father, she owns you. We may not catch a better chance than this; it's fated, isn't it?"

"So there's a 'we' again," she muttered. "Same deal goes as last time?"

She pronounced  _we_  like my mother pronounced my brother's name. A thin pin pierced my chest. I rested my hand to her far cheek and turned her face so our foreheads barely brushed.  _"I_ am not like Anti-Juandissimo, my dear. I swear I shall not abandon you should we run into any trouble."

Anti-Wanda didn't push me off, but her jaw clenched, slipping against my fingers. "You didn't know him. Don't say you're the better drake."

I held her gaze unblinkingly. "Then I'm not like your mother. Come on." With a twirl of my wand, she was dressed again. I grabbed her hand. She yanked it back.

"Your effa's beating faster than a stampede of hogs down a mountain."

Indeed, I could feel swirls of magical effervescence leaking from my palm, mingling with the energy field's threads like a string of lights in an ulk tree. "It happens when I'm nervous."

"I make ya nervous?" she asked, as though this were hilariously amusing. I squeezed her hand and fought to ignore the quickening of magic in my veins.

"Extremely. The charming and elegant do that to me."

Anti-Wanda and I took the long way to the temple's front, circling the dining hall. Our progress was made even more agonizing by every straggler we came across, for we constantly had to slow our pace so as not to attract suspicion. If word got back to Vinnie that I of all people was interfering with her work and helping one of her primary dancers attain her freedom, I didn't even want to know what she'd do to me.

Dm. Venus. I meant Dm. Venus.

"Have you ever been to Comet Falls?" I asked Anti-Wanda as we passed through the final archway. We hovered above the landing in the entry hall now, behind the head of the watchful sheep.

"Where the comet falls?"

"It's a large town where the Sky Temple is, in Fairy World. That's your zodiac, isn't it? If Dm. Venus ever allowed you out anywhere, that's the one place she would have let you visit, I think. Ha. Darling, if you believe that shiny Rainbow Bridge or that port city of flashing signs and gamblers were the biggest tourist traps in Fairy World, then you really  _haven't_  seen Comet Falls. The landscape is beautiful, although the town is more eccentric than quaint. Perhaps more than some."

Anti-Wanda shook her head. She slid her fingers down the banister as we descended. "Ever been there yourself?"

"Goodness no, not yet. But I plan to have my honeymoon there. I was going to ask you for roosting recommendations."

"Shucks, if it's your honeymoon then I'd try being upside-down and naked."

"Yes, that's quite amusing."

Halfway down the staircase, we both stopped mid-wingbeat. No Anti-Wendy waited to greet us at the bottom. A cloud of blue smoke huddled near the floor. A little square hat lay upturned two wingspans away. The smoke didn't even twitch, only clustered in a heap. "Anti-Wendy, what happened?" Anti-Wanda cried, racing down the last of the steps. She tripped at the bottom, even while flying.

"She can't hear you if she's regenerating," I pointed out, hurrying after her.

Anti-Wanda ignored this helpful observation. She felt around my waist until she found my sheath, then drew my wand. "Someone did this to her. We gotta find out why."

"Oh, indubitably. That villain won't get away with this. I say we start by questioning the guards out front."

Before we could even stand, a deep  _boom_  sounded somewhere overhead. I stared at Anti-Wanda. "That came from the moon gallery in the northwest section."

"How'd you know?"

"I studied temple architecture in my youth, including this one. Plus, I was just there earlier today. Come on." I snatched back my wand. "Someone must have broken in."

Anti-Wanda threw her sister's lifesmoke a pained glance, but followed me without hesitation. We flew back up the stairs and past Anti-Praxis at the registration desk. I jerked to a halt. Anti-Wanda kept flying towards the moon gallery, but when she realized I'd stopped, she flipped over to peer back at me.

"Anti-Cosmo?"

"J-just a moment, darling!" I skimmed back to Anti-Praxis. He'd left the desk behind and staggered halfway to the gallery entrance, but that horrid cough slowed his movements and left his balance unstable. I took his hand. "Anti-Praxis, are you all right?"

He hacked into the curve of his arm again, wings beating all wrong. "It's nothing new. Old bones, weak body. Hustle your buns, lad- You've gotta get that wand!"

I hesitated. My instincts cried out for me to stay with someone hurt, but he did make a good point. Anti-Wanda and I had a crook to catch. I nodded and flew back to her. Together we raced through the moon gallery.

The struggle had ended before we even reached the final room, if there was a struggle at all. Several people crowded the corridor. Anti-Fergus had Dame Artemis - of course it was Dame Artemis - pinned to the wall, hands behind her back. Anti-Elina aimed a steady wand at her face, an ivory wand in her other hand. Anti-Bryndin leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded. His foot was propped on a statuette that had fallen and must have made that heavy crash. "Is it over?" I asked, not sheathing my wand.

Anti-Elina glanced back at me, wiping her bangs from her eyes. "We caught this refract trying to make a run for it after desecrating Helena's temple."

"What?"

"Um." Briefly, Anti-Elina dropped eye contact, then glanced at Anti-Bryndin. He made a rolling motion with his hand to signal she should continue. "In the mural. Salalalyn's and Helena's temples are painted beside each other in the depiction of Plane 23 near the top. It's, um…" She held up some sort of shiny clump of wire or wool for me to see. "She scratched away the roof with gold. We found the scrubber in her drink cup, see? The one she brought in."

"That's not the real High Countess," Anti-Wanda breathed in my ear. "She's acting real funny."

"It's Thurmondo," I whispered back. She looked blank. "Prince Thursday? The Leaves spirit? They're kiff-tied. He has no choice but to take control if ever his medium steps inside a temple that isn't his own." Louder, I asked, "Gold?"

"Yeah. And she would have kept at it if we hadn't shown up, I think."

Anti-Bryndin clapped me on the shoulder. "Your courage feeds us all, drake, but we have this matter under control."

I bowed my head. "Yes, um. Th-thank you, Prince Wednesday. We Anti-Fairies are beyond fortunate to have you looking out for us. Sir." With my head still low, I glanced at Dame Artemis. She hadn't acknowledged my presence yet, but only smiled a content, sour smile at nothing in particular. Anti-Fergus kept a fierce expression on his face, but I could tell from the rattle in the energy field how disappointed he was to catch his honorary niece at the scene of a crime.

"May Anti-Wanda and I look around, esteemed princes? She hasn't seen the gallery yet and I had hoped to show her before we heard the crash."

Thurmondo turned to Anti-Bryndin again for permission; Winni waved a dismissive hand, his confident smile dropping. "Touch nothing," he ordered. "And if  _he_  asks you to leave, then you do it without question. I mean it. In this temple, his word is law."

"Yes, High Count. Er- I mean- That is to say-"

Winni chuckled and ruffled my hair as he, Anti-Fergus, and Thurmondo left the gallery. They dragged Dame Artemis off, though she called out obscenities between her cackles and a few threats that she would be back someday to finish the job. I clapped my hand against my forehead.

"I just called a demigod 'High Count,' Anti-Wanda! I can't believe he didn't skin me alive."

"Didn't act like no prince I ever heard of," she muttered.

"Come on. I want to take a look around." I walked down the rest of the corridor and into the final room of the tour. It was large, with no balconies and only the one exit. It brimmed with display cases and appeared well lit by skylights and windows. I frowned.

"How peculiar. The bars on any of these windows are wide enough to fit an owl if she were determined enough to squeeze through. With such an easy getaway, why would Dame Artemis risk running back through the corridor? That's where Thurmondo said they caught her."

"Duh!" Anti-Wanda poked her claw against my neck. "Must've dropped her wand outside the room. Only Fairies can still  _poof_  without touchin' their wand."

"True…" I touched my claw to the top of one display case. "Then why not throw that clump of gold out the window? Once Winni and Thurmondo caught her with it, they knew exactly what she'd done. If she'd disposed of it and didn't steal anything, no one would have noticed the mural had been tampered with. At least not for a while."

"Coulda been her snack."

"… No. Dame Artemis may be a child, but she's awfully clever. I think she got herself caught on purpose. She wanted us to know exactly what she did."

Anti-Wanda leaned her head so far over, her ear brushed her shoulder. She squinted at me, scrunching up her nose. "Why's that, smarty-pants?"

I bit my lip. "I don't know, my dear… I don't know."

"Huh… Hey, does the refract girl fly much?"

"What?"

"Saw her walking. You called her by name a sec ago. You know her?"

"More than I care too. She only flies in owl form, really. In most cases she sticks to the ground."

"Aha. So, maybe when she's not sticky, she don't go up 'cuz she's afraid of heights. That window's pretty high up here. See?" Anti-Wanda pointed through the bars. "We's over the cliff."

I twisted the cap of my wand and began to pace. "Yes, yes, and something else is strange. She didn't make a single appeal to Anti-Fergus to help her, nor did she attempt to explain that this was all a misunderstanding. She didn't so much as look at him, but he swore to me just today that he was like an uncle to her. I didn't figure Dame Artemis as the type to surrender easily."

Anti-Wanda shrugged and went to pick up the fallen statuette. I stayed a while longer, floating in a circle and staring hard at the mural on the wall.

"Why waste time to ruin that and not appeal to the spirit you came here for…?"

"Because she thinks of no one outside the own self," said a new voice behind me. Anti-Wanda gasped. I fumbled my wand and spun around, but managed to retain the dignity required to make a stiff bow. I only glanced up when the  _click scuttle click click_  of hundreds of tiny feet came to a stop. The drake who stood before me… wasn't exactly a drake at all, by definition. His long body meandered like a snake between the display cases. He wore his coat open to show a large chunk of pearl sat embedded in his chest. White rivers of power coursed beneath translucent skin. I blinked. He was Alien, not Fae at all. A Delkian to be precise. All were permitted to worship in our Zodii temples, and no matter what his race, his identity was undeniable.

"Oh. Oh. Good evening, High Acolyte. I hope I didn't disturb you or overstep my place. My name is Anti-Cosmo. That's Anti-Wanda. We're here on migration, and I say with all honesty that it's an honour to speak with you."

"Märlgrita," he practically purred, pincers tapping, though he left out the 'r.' He extended a leg, or perhaps a hand, for me to take. I did. "You come and investigate the noise?"

"A bit, though I, um… don't fancy myself a hero. Only a clever young drake with curiosity to satisfy." I nodded at the mural. "Märlgrita, could you tell me about this image over here of the black and white bird perched on this outcropping? It's a hawk, isn't it?"

Märlgrita pressed three palms against the wall. "It is Helena who fought to steal the second sun. Touching its flame left those wings of soot."

I traced the shadowy figures with my claw. "That's what I thought. She seems to be dressed in royal clothing and speaking to secret forces."

"Indeed."

"Well, Winni and Thurmondo - pardon me for saying so, for I don't mean to imply anything - but they suggested Dame - I mean, the Refract damsel - came here to wipe Helena's temple from the mural with a golden scrubbing brush. However, if I were going to desecrate a demigod, I'd erase the spot where she was portrayed like a queen. An outcast queen, but a cunning one intent on regaining her status nonetheless. Especially if I am short and can easily reach this royal bird down here, but have to fly higher or stand on an object in order to get to that painted temple on the map." I tapped one hand against my palm. "But  _why_  would she come for Helena? … High Acolyte, isn't that Prince Morn down there in the opposite corner?"

"It is."

"He rules the sun, the day, the state of awareness in a way…" I shook my head. "If this was revenge for losing her ability to sleep, it wasn't very well executed. Never send a nonbeliever to do a worshipper's job."

Several feet tapped closer to me. I heard Anti-Wanda's wings press more tightly to the wall, crumpling in the process. "This disappoints?"

"No, no…" I turned away from the mural and drifted around the room again. "I simply wonder if damaging the mural may have been meant as a distraction. In all the confusion, that Refract damsel might have stolen something after all."

"I would not have let that happen," Märlgrita said calmly. "We High Acolytes sense all things within these walls. No step is taken, no plant leaf shifted, no speech spoken, no item swiped without my knowing. These are the abilities of the ones I serve. With them, I can match any thief. The beautiful things displayed may not be of my people, but I defend them as my own."

"Yes, I'm certain you do… My apologies for the trouble that child caused you nonetheless."

"None at all, Anti-Cosmo. You enjoy the temple for the season. Leave the thieves to me."

I bobbed my head, unconvinced. None of the display cases appeared to be broken and the High Acolyte seemed convinced that all was well. The mural leered over me, shadowy claws marking up my cheeks and chest. Very well. With a shake of my wings, I edged over to the entrance of the gallery. Anti-Wanda scurried after me. Märlgrita's eyes boiled into the back of my head. His hundreds of feet began to  _click scuttle click_  away. What a dull and creepy life he must live, confined to Salalalyn's temple day in and day out until he died. Wiping the dust off a row of ancient figurines was probably the most excitement he had on a regular basis when my people weren't around. Ha. I don't see how anyone could ever want to be High Acolyte.

"Anti-Cosmo," Anti-Wanda hissed when we made it outside.

"What?"

She stuck a thumb over her shoulder. "That guy had the biggest butt I have ever seen in my whole life. I mean _huge."_

"My dear, your powers of observation astound me."

While we were descending the stairs back to Anti-Wendy, Anti-Wanda suddenly stiffened up. I ducked beneath her outstretched arm and realized instantly what had stopped her. Anti-Wendy had finished regenerating, but only recently. She still lay cheek-down on the floor. I suspected Dame Artemis had smacked her with something, perhaps a statuette, very hard on the back of her head. The entry hall was alight with movement - Anti-Bryndin barking orders, Anti-Elina pointing all directions, camarilla members and guards crawling all over - but Anti-Buster crouched beside her, holding her hat.

"Odd," I murmured. "Dame Artemis came around this way to get to the moon gallery instead of simply leaving the dining hall from the upstairs level."

"That's him," Anti-Wanda whispered. "That's my pa. Anti-Cosmo, that's my pa. He always changed his looks, but I know it from his eyes. That's my eyes. That scar on his cheek. I know that scar."

I threaded my fingers with hers and gave her hand a squeeze. "I know. Your mother stole you from him and he's been missing you ever since. Let's go tell him ' _Ben'argenta_.'"

Anti-Wanda seemed reluctant to move, but I nudged her forward anyway. Her hands remained in a ball at her chest, knuckles purple. At the bottom of the stairs, I cleared my throat.

"Anti-Buster, I'd like to introduce you to Anti-Wanda and Anti-Wendy. They're twin damsels who were born in the Winter of the Surrounding Thunder and abandoned in Fairy World by their mother as pups."

Anti-Buster stood up very quickly, squeezing Anti-Wendy's hat in his hands. I dropped down to help the poor dame up. Anti-Wanda stretched out her hand. Anti-Buster stretched out his. I was just lifting Anti-Wendy to her feet when a cool stream of effervescence washed over the back of my neck.

"Anti-Buster?" Anti-Bryndin stepped around me, hands clasped behind his back. Anti-Fergus and Anti-Elina weren't with him anymore, and I wondered with a sudden prickle down my spine if he'd stopped to wait for us here. He smiled at the First General, but his eyes were half-lidded. Gesturing to Anti-Wanda, he asked, "Who are they?"

"Anti-Wanda," Anti-Wanda said, leaping instantly into action.  _"Ben'argenta,_  High Count boss, sir. Anti-Wendy's my twin there. We came with the dancers from the Eros Nest."

Anti-Bryndin's eyes swept up and down. My claws tightened in Anti-Wendy's arm. Did he like what he saw? I wasn't sure. Either way, Anti-Bryndin swivelled to face Anti-Buster, leaning forward on his toes. "Are they  _your_  pups, my nervous red-caped friend? What family do they belong to?"

Anti-Buster gazed back at him, half-brother to half-brother… or servant to demigod. The challenge itself didn't need to be spoken aloud, for it was already there, embedded in our every tradition:  _If word gets out they're Anti-Coppertalons, you start a revolution._ Anti-Bryndin began to tap his foot, and Anti-Buster lifted his chin.

"I've never seen them before in my life, sir."

"Then these two return to the Nest with the dancers," Anti-Bryndin replied, and floated off down the hall. Anti-Buster twisted on his heel and followed without a backwards glance. Anti-Wanda stood beside me, very quietly, very still, with her hands together in front of her chest. Anti-Wendy stirred in my arms, rubbing her eyes and mumbling to herself. After several silent seconds, I cleared my throat.

"I, ah… see that taking surprises calmly runs in the family…"

Anti-Wanda lowered her head. "I hate you."

I didn't try to protest as she helped Anti-Wendy up to her wings. But as they started off, I burst out, "Anti-Wanda, wait." When she turned, I flung my hand towards the open double doors. "The guards are probably all distracted with Da- with the nix refract. If you take off now, Dm. Venus will never catch you."

Anti-Wanda shook her head. "Too late."

"So that's it?" I asked, still gesturing as she led her shaking sister down the corridor. "You're giving  _up?_ You're going back to that wretched hag who tortures wisps and says you're only half of what you want to be?"

"At least I'm halfway there," she said over her shoulder. "I know where I'm going and I'm already most the way. Not bad for only 170,000 years of a million old."

I don't think she meant to be so poetic, but she left me there with my hands in my pockets and my head to one side.

The rest of migration season passed rather uneventfully, or at least I found myself so lost in thought that I believe it did. I'd dreamed that Cedarcross would be a place Anti-Kanin and I would wander together and I'd never leave his side, but in reality we signed up for so many different activities with so many different people and made so many new acquaintances that I suppose it didn't matter. I saw Anti-Wanda a time or two, but only from a distance as I didn't dare approach her. A few times I spotted my brother with some new dame they were courting but obviously lacked interest in. My mother was their usual self most days, drifting around the outskirts of the crowd and picking something off every platter in a single trip. We were so absorbed in looking about to see if those behind us were watching that we once bumped straight into each other by one of the dessert tables. My mother caught my plate, which was fortunate since I clapped my hands to my mouth when I saw them.

"Ah," they said.

"Ah," I said too. "Hello, Mother. Enjoying Cedarcross?"

"Hmph. Not in the slightest. These floors are filthy and none of these festivities are exciting anyone for long. It's all this talk of public affection regulations that's scarred the younger generation. What once we called natural behaviour and didn't bat an eye at is facing scorn from our own people. The Fairy media has poisoned their minds. Now, are you going to take this?"

I looked at the plate they were offering me. Since I'd nearly dropped it, the ice cream, fudge, and pumpkin pie had slid together in a mess on one side of the plate. "I… I don't like my food touching."

My mother sighed loudly and handed me their own instead. "You always were such a picky eater. It comes from your father's side." They plucked a single strawberry dipped in white chocolate from a nearby platter. "His company was the only reason I could ever stand crowds like these. He hated them more than I did but neither of us wanted to be the first to leave the room."

I blinked. "You would seek my father out at migration? Willingly? You've never mentioned that."

"Every year. I must have said something about it."

"I would have remembered."

They shrugged their wings and dangled a second strawberry in front of my nose. "Once I married Anti-Bryndin, no one else would lay a finger on me. Your father was the only idiot stupid enough to try."

"And you allowed his advances?" This was news to me.

"I pitied him."

I took the strawberry, claws clenching. "Mum, was… there ever a time you felt you loved my father? Any time at all?"

"Well, I certainly didn't marry Anti-Bryndin for his way of charming damsels," they sniffed, and continued their anticlockwise circle around the food tables. I watched them go, smiling thinly. That might have been the most complimentary thing I'd heard them say about Anti-Robin. I fingered the strawberry, then had another thought.

"Mother?" When they turned in confusion I said, "I love you. You've always let me know where I stand with you. Even at my lowest points, I always knew that if I asked you a question, you would answer honestly and without hesitation. I didn't realize until I left the Castle just how much you know and how much I missed having you around to talk to. We've both fought our inner battles as best we can and understand each other's highs and lows. Thank you for being there for younger me when you could, even if it wasn't easy."

"You're a good son," she said, and that was all I saw of her that winter.

Anti-Kanin and I left Cedarcross a week before most. I was feeling stir-crazy and he wanted to visit his favourite eating establishments without worrying all the tables were booked. "May as well try that Cracklewings place again," he called back to me as we flew. "Let them know we appreciate what they do for our people."

I said nothing. Anti-Kanin dropped back to join me. "You feeling under the weather, matey? You've been mopey for days."

"I… I don't know what I'm doing with my life, Caden. I don't. I once dreamed of breeding genies, but when was the last time I put any energy towards that goal? I'm not even halfway where I want to be. All those folk we saw in Cedarcross seem so content with their lives as they are now. I don't know why I'm out here when I prefer the walls of my study to the open air. I'm wondering if I ever should have left the Castle at all."

Anti-Kanin flew above me and made a kissing sound as he passed over my head. "Don't let it worry you much. Everyone's always got something more they want to have. Ye're only 150,000. That's awful young for a Fae. One day everything'll line up for ye. Hey. I thought we could go for dinner tonight and perhaps dessert, then find a nice roost where we can get rather cosy. Think that'd be easier on you than it was back in Cedar? Ain't no one judging you when we're all alone."

I dug my claws tighter into my sides, wondering why we're all such idiots who fall head over heels with the desire to mash our faces up against bags of flesh stretched between bone. "Tonight's not the night."

Oh gods, I wanted him. Or at least, I had before. Now, I… I wasn't sure. I couldn't explain my sudden lack of interest in Anti-Kanin, and that only frustrated me more. My fingers found a near-permanent home clutching my face, while I shrank into my wings and trembled. Smoke. Why didn't I feel I could say with honest passion anymore that I loved my drakefriend? What was  _wrong_  with me?

Anti-Kanin and I kept on our travels for years, picking up new members for our little colony and letting them fly off again as they wished. We circled down as far as Plane 3 and up as far as Plane 11. At times we roosted with groups of strangers, other times with old friends. I learned a few card games, Anti-Fairy and Fairy ones alike, though I abstained from any and all drinking contests.

Then the years turned to decades. I looked for Anti-Wanda and Anti-Wendy each time I went to Cedarcross, but if ever I tried to approach, Anti-Wanda sensed me coming and made an excuse to disappear. I didn't blame her. I was avoiding Mona just as much (though she answered to Anti-Saffron now, by my calculations).

During one migration when Anti-Fergus wasn't on guard duty, I pulled him aside and said, "I'm not happy in my bachelor colony, old chap. Could I possibly stay with you and your anti-pixies for a time? I'll pull my weight, I swear it."

"Got enough help from your brother," was his stern reply. "And last time I checked, the two of you weren't on speaking terms. No thanks."

"Anti-Fergus," I protested, but no matter how extravagant my pleas, he took no interest in me. I clung to my coat, ears drooping as he flew off to dance with some lovely dame.

Fine. If I couldn't leave my bachelor colony, I'd try something else. Anti-Kanin and I had a talk. I told him I'd travelled for decades now and longed to settle down. He agreed. We purchased a little place in Sootwater Creek, not far from the Cracklewings' family restaurant. I suppose the stereotype that Fairies have horrible memories is up for some debate, because Rupert recognized me the moment I introduced myself. Perhaps he was a drone, but if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was running the whole establishment. He even gave me a job there part-time waiting tables. That didn't solve all my problems, but it gave me a reason to leave the roost in the morning and a new way to stimulate my brain. The work was simple, but I fell in love with it anyhow.

One Lovers' Day, when I was working the late shift (I always offered to, being the youngest and most subordinate), Rupert came out of the kitchen to watch me gather dishes. I paid him no mind at first, but when he followed me to my fourth, I began to worry.

"Um. Can I help you, Mr. Roebeam, sir?"

"Have you put on a couple centimetres this month?" he asked.

"I haven't been keeping track."

"How's the tail?"

"I'm sorry?"

Rupert tapped a finger against his teeth. "Mm… Your wings have been sore, haven't they?"

"Oh, indubitably. And I've been oversensitive to everything around me too. I hope I'm not becoming ill." I waved my wand over Table 5. "How did you guess?"

"You've been walking between the tables more than flying, Anti-C. That's reason to celebrate."

"Celebrate, sir?"

"If you'll have this dance. Here's the deal: I'm giving you two weeks off. And when you get back, let's talk about promoting you to shift leader."

I straightened up. "What? What's all this? I- I'm flattered, but it's so sudden, sir."

Rupert  _poof_ ed a small mirror into his hand. "Hold this high and look close, you silver fox. Your scent gland's coming in."

I snatched the mirror and tilted it back and forth, clawing at the top of my hair. "Oh my gods, my middle's balding. And the fur beneath is turning grey! Look, Rupert- it's turning grey!"

"I see," he said with all the amusement of a prowling cat. "Lock up tonight and then don't come back 'til after New Year's."

"Thank you, sir! Thank you!"

That evening, I bought a bouquet of witch's hips from the little stand on the corner and  _foop_ ed home faster than ever. When I rang the bell of our little bachelor pad and Anti-Kanin opened the door, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him fiercer than I had in years.

"Didn't need to do this," he protested.

"Happy Lovers' Day, you big idiot," I said, kissing him again. When he at last broke us apart, swiping his tongue around his lips to capture the full experience, I drew back down the corridor, towards the roosting array. But as I did so, I pulled Anti-Kanin after me by the lapels of his coat. "I daresay I know exactly what  _you_  want tonight."

Anti-Kanin raised an amused eyebrow. "Aye?"

My fingers walked their way up his chest until I flicked him on the nose. "Ooh hoo, can't you feel it? Tonight's the night we go through with it all. I shall accept your singing until morning breaks." Not that it was my first time in any life I'd lived, but it was certainly my first time in an Anti-Fairy's body. This would be an experience.  _"Prrrr…._ Tonight, darling, we fertilise my stolen Fairy child at last."

"Are ye old enough?" he asked seriously, dropping the smirky smile. "Er… ye don't look any taller'n before."

"Of course! Why, didn't you know? My tail came in a week ago!" I imagined it swishing back and forth, although I'd noticed it… wasn't nearly as bushy as I'd hoped it would be. I suppose its rat-like thinness came from my father's line. I grinned nonetheless. "Ooh, isn't this thrilling? I'm growing into my adult wings, I've got my adult tail, and my scent gland's come in too. That means I'm legally, properly old enough for further intimacy now, at last! What do you think? I'm positively fritzy, aren't I?"

"Oh." Anti-Kanin brought a finger to his lips. His eyes swept to my toes and up again. He shifted his weight away, and when I stepped after him, he gently shut the door. "Erm. I suppose I always assumed ye'd be getting taller when ye came into adulthood."

My hands drooped at the wrists. I took a step towards the roosting room, holding them to my chest. "Wh… what difference does it make whether I'm short or tall?"

Anti-Kanin's hand migrated behind his neck. His eyes fled to the ceiling. "Errr…"

"I'm a real adult at last," I said again, my voice cracking. Was he…  _rejecting_  me? No one had ever rejected me when I was Ilisa Maddington. Not to my face. "I really am, Caden. I promise. I- I know I'm still rather young and I'm terribly undersized, but I really have matured into my adult body, and I have adult feelings for you. Don't you want me?"

He said nothing. My eyes stung.

"We've kissed undressed a thousand times! Did it matter then that I was short?"

"We wasn't exactly… adults then, scout," he said quietly.

I lowered my gaze. "I wasn't. But you were. For a long time. You didn't mind. You said it was okay because I was legal age, even though I hadn't fully… become…"

"Well. Ye were gonna grow up, buck. But singing together won't be a lick like kissing, no matter how undressed we've found ourselves before, aye? That's a commitment too large to make easy." Anti-Kanin slapped his hand against my shoulder. "I hope ye realise we can still be friends, matey."

"Are you breaking up with me over this?" I asked, absolutely floored. My fingers wrapped over my lower teeth. "I- I don't understand. Caden? I didn't do anything wrong. All I did was get older. Don't you still want me? A-and… Who am I going to fertilise the Fairy child with? I wanted… I'd hoped…"

"Ye're still cute," he assured me. He kissed the centre of my forehead before he headed towards the kitchen. I stood there, frozen, blinking soot and acid from my eyes.

Cute? I didn't want him to think I was  _cute_. I wanted to be fritzy.

He still thought of me as hardly more than a child! Good smoke, had my father faced this same social barrier when he was my age? Would my future children? That is, if I even found someone who wanted to sire children with a scraggly little drake like me someday.

 _"Caden,"_  I shouted after him. My hands tightened. My eyelids squeezed. I jabbed a claw towards the roosting room. "My feelings consume me! I desire your passions! I swear here and now that I am going to form the magic to fertilise half my Fairy child tonight, with or without you! Don't let its myriad health problems be upon your head!"

Anti-Kanin pretended not to hear me. All right, fine. I went digging. I'd allowed my drawer in our room to become so crowded over the years with scrolls, knickknacks, sketches, Lohai's bag, and random newspaper clippings. But after emptying half of it into his, I found what I was looking for. I grabbed the magic bubble that contained Ilisa's sperm and Juandissimo's eggs, slammed the washroom door behind me, changed my mind, threw it open again, slit the bubble with my claw, and brought a cloud of fertilisation magic into existence all by myself, _thank you very much._

That night, I slept on the floor instead of going to roost, my body heaving as I wept my silent tears into the tangled fuzz of the bath mat I'd pillowed beneath my head. In retrospect, I suppose it was actually the following day that I wept, perhaps in the afternoon, for I wasn't tired and I stayed up so very late, trying and failing to satisfy my needs… My long-kept bubble, shakily reformed, cradled a scarlet mist along with the goopy sperm and eggs. Aha, red magic… Shame on me. Everyone knows zygotes fertilised with red terminate themselves within hours after the event… It's reasons like this the Eros Triplets fire their arrows to artificially force passionate yellow magic during fae fertilisations… No. Precious reds do not survive to term.

 _The child would need a surrogate parent to host it anyway,_  I thought, gazing at it from my place on the crumpled washroom mat.  _I don't have one. All these millennia I maintained it with care, and I've chosen to end its chance at life in a single bloody night._

I sat up, no longer muffling my sobs, and clutched the bubble to my chest hour upon hour until the tiny bead of hope inside finally gave up trying to live. So that was that. It was over. I leaned my head on the cupboard beneath the washing basin, pulled in my knees, and squeezed that bubble so it contorted. Then I hugged it even more. Poor, dear Fairy egg. Its colours were grey and black. Sick and irreparable. And I cried, because it wasn't  _fair_  that my desperate impulses ruined my dream of fatherhood in an instant after cultivating it for a lifetime. It wasn't fair that I'd done this to myself even when I hadn't wholly wanted to.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, blinking towards the ceiling. The cruellest part of the whole event, I thought, was that the night before hadn't even fulfilled me. Perhaps I'd done it wrong? I'd researched… I'd taken careful notes on how it ought to go… I'd practiced in my imagination day in and day out. I raged with fire even now, my body wailing with hunger deeper than any my belly had ever cried for.

Why had the spirits abandoned their loyal servant, leaving him to wallow in his hatred and doubt? Why was I still  _ **unsatisfied**_ , still brimming with desperation even now?

In any case, Anti-Kanin and I never spoke about that night again. Nor any other night I shamelessly saw to my desires within his earshot, just to try and make him jealous. He never was. He  _never was._

A week after our clash, I slipped three towns over and returned in the sleepy hours of the morning with an entire stack of magazines containing indelicate portraits of undressed Fairy damsels, along with a basket of scented oils and other country remedies that were supposed to enhance particular sensations. I didn't sleep for three days. Gods, I know it was disgusting to look upon the wisps - my little wisps - with the lust I did, but it was the only type of indecent magazine one could come by in Anti-Fairy World, I swear! My own people don't pose for such lewd material, and I knew of no shop that dared openly sell the stuff, for the more dubious folk always had to secure them across the border in secret, and not for a reasonable price by any means…

"Gah," I muttered to myself the morning after. A sad scene I made, straining to peer at the posing damsel by the faint light of a candle flickering in its dish. I wrinkled my nose and flipped to another page. "I know on some level this is doing something for me, but it's not  _enough._ Now, if only I had proper Anti-Fairies to drool over… Perhaps I'd be happy then. Wait." I looked off to one side, pricking up my ears. "I'm a painter. A bloody good one, too. I can paint all the nude Anti-Fairies I want."

Oh, pity. If only I had a model. Or brushes, or canvas, or paints.

Sigh.

Three months later, we returned to Cedarcross for summer migration. Anti-Kanin met a wonderful drake who ran a seed shop on Plane 4, and they would laugh and talk while I was around, and sometimes when I wasn't. One day when they'd been particularly flirty over supper, I declined their invitation to join them in the lava pools and stayed stubbornly in my seat as the servants tidied up the dining hall. One of them paused beside me.

"Are you finished with your soup, Anti-Cosmo?" she asked in Vatajasa.

"Finished enough," I mumbled.

"Are you feeling well? You haven't been in very high spirits this year."

I glanced up to see Anti-Wendy watching me, her ears pointed forward in concern. "Aha. You've noticed?"

She flicked her hair behind her shoulder. "I keep up with those I consider friends."

"At least I have one, then." I stood, exhaling, fingers spread across the tablecloth. "Thank you for checking in, darling. You always serve above and beyond. If you'll excuse me, I shall retire to roost."

"Good night, sir."

I paused, then turned back and picked up the last plate on the table. Handing it to her, I said, "Anti-Wendy, I never did apologize. It's my fault you and your sister are still imprisoned in the Eros Nest. I'm sorry for trying to force things with your father. If I'd tipped him off in private instead of within the High Count's earshot, perhaps Winni wouldn't have felt so threatened by your return and all would have turned out all right."

Anti-Wendy took the dish in silence, clicking it on her stack. "We all miss your visits," she said. "If you're ever in town, do stop by the Nest again."

That set the gears turning in my head. I watched Anti-Wendy gather up the wineglasses. "May I be so bold as to ask when you're off tonight? I'd love to escort you on a late night stroll."

"I'll be free in the shake of a wand."

I wasn't dressed in my finest clothes, but neither was she, so I decided not to change them. She held my arm and we circled the shrub garden by the light of the sunset skies and talked about a lot of things that weren't very important at all. "You return to the Nest at the end of the week, don't you?" I asked near the end. "Tell me, do they still strip you all of your clothes and toss you into that tunnel like wild creatures?"

"Oh, yes. Then I'm back to being Anti-Binky's prize again."

"I recall the bloke. You've rejected him before, haven't you?"

"I don't expect him to listen for much longer."

"It's a difficult predicament, I know." I tapped my fingers against her gloved palm. "At least you have your sister."

Anti-Wendy leaned her head against my shoulder and gave her wings a shrug. "I haven't seen my sister in years."

"No? Did they finally let her go?"

"I don't know. The summer before it happened, when I was in the kitchens, I heard Dm. Venus talking to the High Count… I never learned what about, but I heard them say her name. I haven't seen her since, not even up here in Cedarcross."

"Hm… Did Dm. Venus sound at all concerned? I never thought such a  _deity_  would stoop to asking help from anyone."

"No, no. He approached her saying my sister's name. My Snobbish isn't good, but I understood that much."

"Interesting," I murmured. We floated on in silence. At the courtyard entrance to her roosting room, I kissed Anti-Wendy's wrist, holding her gaze the whole time.  _"Argenti'rima d'sõch."_

"Silver blessings, dear friend," she repeated. I bid her goodnight and flew back to my own roost. I'd brought a smile to her timid face, but my core still drooped like a damp peacock's tail.

Anti-Kanin always stayed friendly to me in the months following our break-up. Oh, I don't mean to imply he didn't. But… even so, the more his eyes wandered to Anti-Shimmer, the more I began to feel like the odd drake out. The third wheel. And not the one on a wheelbarrow.

"I want you to be happy," I told him the night before migration season was to end (He'd had no desire to leave early and beat the crowds home that year). "Anti-Kanin, you're clearly enchanted with Anti-Shimmer, and you know for certain he's willing to return your advances. Don't let this opportunity pass you by. Besides." And I shrugged my wings, dropping my gaze to my toes. "He's your age anyway. I don't want you wasting any more time on me."

Anti-Kanin paused. The clothes he'd been folding with his wand all froze in unison, hovering around us like diamonds made of rain. "I never thought I was wasting my time. I still love ya, Anti-Cosmo. You've always been my best friend. I don't want ye to feel jealous of Anti-Shim. I'll… I'll quit talking to him if that's what you want me to do. I'll do it in a wingbeat."

"It's not really you," I protested, lifting my hands. "At least not mostly. I simply need a break, that's all. I want to take some time and figure myself out. I want to follow a few temptations and find out if any of them click. I want to know for sure what it feels like to be in love. But most of all, I want you to be happy. Does Anti-Shimmer make you happy?"

Anti-Kanin turned his wand between his fingers. "Aye."

 _Happier than I did?_ I almost asked, but I bit the comment back.  _The year of Breath isn't a lucky one for the Water year_ , I almost said too. But I didn't.

"We both know I'm too young for you," I whispered. "You need to be giving your affections to someone your own age, darling. Perhaps we can try again someday, but I don't want you to keep waiting forever for me to grow up, hm? Go on, chap. Rush to Anti-Shimmer and offer to court him. I don't mind it."

"You mean it, matey?"

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to rub my scent gland across his chin. "I do."

And so I let him go, quietly wringing my hands, and making myself smile by pinching my claws into the web of skin between my thumb and forefinger. Anti-Kanin hugged me fiercely and flew off to share the news. Those two had supper at Cracklewings' the following night and were inseparable ever after. After migration season, Anti-Shimmer moved in with us and became a third member of our bachelor colony (which wasn't much of a bachelor colony anymore) and that was fine.

"You really don't mind?" Anti-Kanin would fret most days. I'd reluctantly blow out the kitchen candle and wander into the roosting room for bed. Anti-Kanin was still my best friend. Invasive or not, even Anti-Shimmer wouldn't dream of turning me out. He saw me as one sees a cousin or younger brother. Yet it still felt like an intrusion to take my once-familiar place on Anti-Kanin's left side, single and odd, when just months ago the two of us had been so close.

"I really don't. I'm so happy for you. You positively glow these days, Anti-Kanin. Anti-Shimmer's a good drake."

I often spent the evenings sweeping the kitchen ceiling with a broom or rereading one of my Kalysta Ivorie novels or preparing meals for Lohai, and I'd listen to them giggle and whisper in the next room while they expressed themselves with deeper kisses and cuddles than anything Anti-Kanin had ever given me, and it was fine, it was fine, and I swept and read and drank my tea alone late at night, and I didn't mind one  _bit_.


End file.
